Waiting for the tide

Tameti Teweti (20, left) and Bwenaua Biiri (18), both of atoll nation Kiribati but raised in New...
Tameti Teweti (20, left) and Bwenaua Biiri (18), both of atoll nation Kiribati but raised in New Zealand, are unsettled by the thought of losing their homeland and their identity. Photo by Christine O'Connor.
Ioane Teitiota (right) stands in Waitakere District Court last month before being deported to...
Ioane Teitiota (right) stands in Waitakere District Court last month before being deported to Kiribati. Photo by Briar March.
Angua Erika (right) waits with her children Riango (3) and Yolisa (7) at Auckland Airport last...
Angua Erika (right) waits with her children Riango (3) and Yolisa (7) at Auckland Airport last month for a flight to join her husband Ioane Teitiota who was deported to Kiribati following a failed attempt to have the New Zealand Courts recognise the...

The international community expects New Zealand to be a key player in the resettlement of up to 1.7 million Pacific Islanders forced from their homes by climate change in coming decades. As a nation we have barely begun thinking about it, writes Bruce Munro. 

The ocean is swallowing their homeland. Gnawing at it wave by wave, contaminating ground water, killing crops, drowning hope.

Even so, they want to return.

The thought of not being able to, leaves them empty and cold.

Bwenaua Birri (18) and Tameti Teweti (20) are two of 10 students from the Pacific Island nation of Kiribati (pronounced ''kiri-bus'') who attend the University of Otago, in Dunedin.

They are good-natured young women; quick to laugh, even on a cool and windy spring day more than 5200km from their tropical home.

But at this moment, they are sombre.

Both left Kiribati - a nation of 32 atolls, one island and 103,500 people scattered across 3.5 million square kilometres of Micronesia - when they were pre-schoolers.

Miss Teweti was raised in Hamilton and Hastings, returned briefly to Kiribati when she was 11, and is in her third year of an arts degree majoring in sociology.

Miss Biiri has spent most of her years in Wellington, has never been back to Kiribati, and is taking first-year science papers in the hope of gaining entrance to medical school.

Despite the seemingly tenuous links to their homeland, both are adamant they want to return; taking skills and finding roots.

''It is part of us,'' Miss Biiri says.

''Where else would be home?''

But that opportunity may be slipping beyond reach.

Kiribati, most of which is less than 2m above sea level, is at risk of becoming one of climate change's first ''former nations''.

Reports, including by the World Bank, have suggested Kiribati's overcrowded capital Tarawa - where about 50,000 people live - could be largely under water by 2050.

Already, the country is experiencing significant climate change impacts.

Saltwater intrusion and erosion of arable land are reducing food production; many freshwater wells have become contaminated with salt water; extensive coastal erosion caused by more frequent storms and higher tides is undermining infrastructure and forcing people from their homes; and, overcrowding in Tarawa means high levels of sewage contamination in surrounding coastal waters poses serious health risks.

And it is not only Kiribati staring down the barrel.

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) found small island states were the most vulnerable countries in the world to the negative effects of climate change, making the Pacific one of the most vulnerable regions on the globe.

Assoc Prof John Campbell, of the University of Waikato, has estimated that between 665,000 and 1.7 million people in the Pacific could be displaced by the middle of this century due to sea-level rise. Many of them would be forced to move within their countries.

Having to shift to another country, however, could be most likely for up to 330,000 residents of atoll countries.

These estimates do not take into account a new international study revealing what melting Antarctic ice will do to sea levels.

Previously, the IPCC predicted Antarctic ice would contribute 5cm to global sea-level rise by 2100.

But in research released this week, a team led by Dr Nicholas Golledge, of Wellington's Victoria University, has predicted a global average temperature rise of 1.5degC to 2degC will cause the Antarctic ice shelves to collapse, adding a further 35cm to sea levels.

The big question is, who will be responsible for these dissolving countries and their people?

The natural assumption is New Zealand and Australia, both of which already take leading roles in the Pacific region.

Or, maybe not.

The recent case of would-be climate refugee Ioane Teitiota and his family, shows New Zealand is far from ready.

And those in the know say that despite a moral responsibility to the people of the Pacific, we are unlikely to do anything much about it until catastrophe forces our hand.

In 2007, Mr Teitiota and his wife Angua Erika shifted to New Zealand from Kiribati.

They lived and worked in Auckland, raising three children.

But Mr Teitiota did not renew his visa on time and had his belated application turned down.

His lawyer appealed the decision, arguing that Mr Teitiota should not be sent back to Kiribati because he was a climate refugee.

In July, his appeal was declined.

Last month, despite remonstrations by supporters and the attention of international media, he, and then his family, were deported.

The judge in the Court of Appeal case, Justice Wild, said Mr Teitiota did not qualify as a refugee. He also made an important point about climate change and the definition of refugee.

''No-one should read this judgement as downplaying the importance of climate change,'' Justice Wild said.

''It is a major and growing concern for the international community. The point this judgement makes, is that climate change and its effect on countries like Kiribati is not appropriately addressed under the Refugee Convention.''

In essence, there is no international agreement on how to manage what will probably be a global tidal wave of millions of people displaced by climate change.

What slow movement there is towards an agreement, seems to be happening without any active support from New Zealand.

The United Nations Refugee Convention was born in 1951; forged in response to the needs of people displaced by World War 2.

Climate-driven migration was not even a small wave on the horizon.

Sixty-four years later, the definition is in urgent need of being updated to meet 21st-century realities, says the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).

Since 2008, the UN's refugee agency has been working on trying to get international agreement on procedures for natural disaster and climate-change refugees. In 2011, Norway and Switzerland alone pledged to spearhead building an international consensus.

''Agreement is needed now,'' a Geneva-based UNHCR spokesman told the Otago Daily Times this week.

• Do not hold your breath, when it comes to New Zealand.

Prof Paul Spoonley is pro-vice chancellor of humanities and social sciences at Massey University and is involved in migration policy research.

He says New Zealand is a ''great believer in international process'' but that we tend to be ''reactive not proactive'' when it comes to refugee policy.

He foresees scenarios that could require the relocation of sizeable Pacific populations.

''Do we re-establish whole communities?,'' Prof Spoonley asks.

''And, if so, do we do that in New Zealand? ... My own view is that we must.''

He says New Zealand has a ''more receptive'' attitude to Pacific migrants than Australia.

''There's already a history of those communities being in New Zealand. But to treat refugees from Micronesia, Melanesia or even Polynesia as climate refugees, is not something we have in our policy mix at the moment.''

Nor for the foreseeable future.

''The discussion has been relatively limited so far,'' he says.

''And what would trigger more discussion and concern would be an event that has a catastrophic effect.

''Would we consider it in advance of a catastrophic event? My answer is categorically, probably not.''

It is not difficult to imagine what a calamitous climate-driven, mass migration could look like.

For many months, the world has been witnessing it on a daily basis in the Middle East and Europe.

A report, published this year in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, says a severe drought, worsened by climate change, forced 1.5 million farmers to flock to Syria's overcrowded cities, helping trigger civil war in 2012.

The conflict has displaced 12 million Syrians; the biggest such event since World War 2.

About 4 million have fled the country, with more than 400,000 risking their lives to seek asylum in Europe, which is struggling to find a fitting response.

Wisdom and self-preservation are not the only arguments being put forward for why New Zealand should rouse itself to thought and deed.

There is also the little-discussed issue of moral responsibility. Yes, in part because Pacific Island nations are our neighbours.

But also, because of history.

Judith Bennett knows history.

She is a professor in the history department at the University of Otago.

She says New Zealand owes much to Pacific people. They fought as volunteers in the New Zealand armed forces during both world wars, suffered losses to help keep New Zealand and Australia safe during World War 2, had their islands' resources exploited, and provided cheap labour to fuel New Zealand's economic growth.

''Their islands were often battlefields ... which preserved the metropolitan centres from the damage that several islands, especially the atolls, suffered from battle and military installations,'' Prof Bennett says.

''The tiny atoll island of Funafuti, in present day Tuvalu, lost 28,000 of their valued coconut palms to build a US airstrip, an airstrip that helped keep the fighting away from Australia and New Zealand.''

New Zealand and Australia extracted phosphate from Kiribati's Banaba Island ''at bargain-basement prices''.

The extraction devastated the island, forcing the relocation of its inhabitants to the Fijian island of Rabi.

Much the same can be said of Nauru, where the atoll's phosphate-rich surface was destroyed ''to fertilise the poor soils of Australia and New Zealand''.

''This alone is a debt that New Zealand needs to keep in mind when it considers the fate of the atolls' peoples,'' Prof Bennett says.

And, of course, the Western world has industrialised at the price of global warming; a price being paid first and foremost by low-lying island nations.

The pressure is mounting, from within New Zealand and abroad, for this country to step up.

Mr Teitiota's lawyer Mike Kidd has said he supports the Government's decision to welcome more Syrian refugees, but accuses it of ''ignoring those left stranded in its own backyard''.

This week, Kathleen Newland, co-founder of the Washington-based Migration Policy Institute was reported saying it was time for Australia and New Zealand to set up procedures for accepting climate-change refugees.

Auckland-based film-maker Briar March is part of an international project creating a feature documentary film about Kiribati's plight.

She has been filming Mr Teitiota and his family for the film, Anote's Ark.

Ms March was director of award-winning 2010 documentary, There Once Was an Island, about sea-level rise in the Takuu Islands, off the east coast of Bougainville in Papua New Guinea.

''This is an issue that is not going away, and which will only become more and more relevant to New Zealanders,'' Ms March says.

''So, it's really our responsibility to start having these conversations now with the Pacific. [Kiribati] President Anote Tong is trying to have those conversations, and so are many other leaders in the Pacific. They are having a lot of trouble, and they are getting really frustrated.''

Mr Tong has visited New Zealand, asking the country to accept more of his people to form a core of settlers who could learn to live in New Zealand, paving the way for a mass exodus.

That was a decade ago, Prof Bennett says.

''The same goes for people from Tuvalu ... They will all need to move sooner or later,'' she says.

''I hope New Zealand will begin this process of gradual acceptance of these migrants wisely as well as rapidly, allowing them their dignity as human beings, and repay these people whose ancestors provided much to New Zealand.''

Prof Spoonley says it could be done, with a bit of effort and money.

''New Zealand has a very good [refugee resettlement] facility at Mangere. but it is a very limited facility,'' Prof Spoonley says.

''If we are going to see a significant increase in numbers arriving in New Zealand, then of course you need to provide that initial point of arrival and help.''

This week, the newly set up Dunedin Refugee Steering Group told the Dunedin City Council it wanted the city to become a centre for refugee resettlement.

Dunedin Mayor Dave Cull says the city needs more people in the ''family-bearing and working-age group'', but that they need to have the right skills.

''I think the city would welcome refugees whether their plight is caused by war, climate change or anything else beyond their control,'' Mr Cull says.

Immigration Minister Michael Woodhouse says the Government does not have climate-related immigration policies.

But it ''acknowledges the concerns of Pacific Island countries, and others, that climate change may impact on their environment and sustainable development'' and ''supports efforts to integrate climate change objectives into its development programmes''.

''If these Pacific Island countries are affected by rising sea levels in the future, I have every confidence that New Zealand will form part of some sort of global response,'' Dunedin-based Mr Woodhouse says.

Miss Biiri and Miss Teweti look at each other and giggle when asked if they ever catch up with the other Kiribati students on campus.

Yes, often, they say.

They are unsettled by the thought that a forced and unco-ordinated retreat from island homes could see their people widely dispersed; dissolved in the ocean of humanity.

Miss Teweti keenly feels the tension of being from a place she is yet to fully know as her own.

Losing the land where their people, stories and practices are inextricably intertwined would be hard enough.

It is vital they are given the chance to rebuild lives in communities large enough to sustain their language and culture, she says.

''It's a support system for those who are already together. And for us, those who aren't part of the group ... it gives us a place to immerse ourselves in the culture ... Something we need for our identity.''

 

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