For Inner Mongolia, Trouble Has Come in Swarms Lately
First came floods, which swamped nearby villages. Then came storms of hail, which pummeled fields of red sorghum and corn. Then came drought, which scorched and cracked the earth.
Now Baotou faces its most worrisome plague yet. Swarms of locusts, about quadruple the size of normal infestations, are chewing their way through grasslands outside the city and other parts of the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region on China's northern border. The insects have devoured some 15 million acres of crops and grasslands, or about 5% of the land in the region, and have infested another 13 million.
"It's just been a bad summer," says Li Xiaosuo , chief of Baotou's plant-protection station.
Mr. Li and other agricultural officials are waging a relentless war against the bugs as they chomp through greenery that is supposed to protect nearby Beijing and another major metropolis, Tianjin, from sandstorms coming off the Gobi desert. When not out on the grasslands tracking the bugs, Mr. Li catches catnaps on a bed tucked in the corner of his office. His eyes have become puffy with fatigue. "I'm exhausted," says the 43-year-old, cracking open a bottle of blood-pressure medicine and swallowing three pills.
Baotou's battles with Mother Nature are a microcosm of China's larger summer struggles. In the southern part of the country, floods have caused billions of dollars of damage. Water-guzzling factories and overgrazing have exacerbated drought in a parched north.
The problems are prompting some to ask whether breakneck development for a billion people isn't exceeding natural limits. "Is this all just a coincidence?" says Zheng Yisheng, a senior researcher at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences in Beijing, and the editor of an upcoming book on China's environment. "If you put all these things together, it looks very serious."
Several provinces are reporting serious locust invasions, which are speeding the encroachment of the desert and threatening farmers' incomes. Across China's grasslands, locusts have affected a total of 47 million acres, according to Zhang Zhishan, an official in the Agricultural Ministry's Locust Control Headquarters. Officials in two other big northern provinces have formed antilocust brigades and deployed insect-eating ducks and chickens.
Some of the largest locust populations have clustered outside Baotou, at the edge of Inner Mongolia's sweeping grasslands, where shepherds often herd by motorcycle.
The enemy is Oedaleus decorus asiaticus, a brownish migratory grasshopper. It has a helmet-like head, red wings and a black X on its back. It's a common foe in Asia, but this year the insect shows a puzzling ability to fly higher and move greater distances. In a rare urban invasion of Inner Mongolia's capital, Hohhot, earlier this summer, insects were knocking at apartment windows six stories high. Swarms became so thick that some of the city's streetside stalls closed up and children ran around collecting jars full of the bugs.
Scientists speculate that warmer weather and strong winds may have allowed locusts to breed more prolifically and fly further than in years past. Damaged grassland is also to blame, as many locusts are on the move in search of fresh food.
There are political issues at play, too. Since the collapse of central agricultural planning, farmers are allowed to grow what they want, but they no longer have the same levels of funding or organization to fight locusts. An official in Inner Mongolia, which is twice the size of France, estimated the government would need $41 million to fight the locusts this year. Even after an emergency order from Premier Wen Jiabao last month, China's central government has come up with only $10.3 million to fight locusts nationwide.
Compounding the problem, a younger generation of government agricultural officials sees more opportunities for advancement in scouting for factory investments than in protecting the environment. "I'm supposed to be reading this," says Mr. Li, holding up a tome on market-style reforms in China's economy.
Instead, he's been fighting nature. His struggles this year began in earnest with a small outbreak in the spring of SARS, which shut down his and other government offices. For most of July, Mr. Li directed a squad of three crop dusters targeting a fast-expanding population of migratory locusts more than 100 miles north of Baotou. Shepherds had fled their homes because their flocks were struggling to survive on the vanishing grasslands. After each load of pesticide was dumped, Mr. Li would rush to the site and inspect the damage. In other areas, he organized dozens of herders into chains to spray lines or dig ditches the locusts couldn't cross.
The goal, he says, was to kill as many insects as possible without scarring the ecology. Too much pesticide might kill off other, beneficial insects and animals. The upshot: About a third of the locust population survived the operation. Their young are now being born.
The forceful re-emergence of the locusts has otherworldly echoes among Chinese as well as Westerners. The Han dynasty poet Cai Yong linked locusts to God's wrath, saying the swarms were "the result of greed and inhumanity."
When asked about such ancient warnings, Baotou officials reply with upbeat bug stories -- for example, the Tang Dynasty emperor who swallowed a handful of live locusts to reassure subjects the plague would soon be defeated.
At a banquet hosted by Mr. Li after a trip to the grasslands, the talk turned to how to keep the insects under control. "Why don't we make locusts a new delicacy?" ventured Wang Lijun, a seed-company executive. "With 1.3 billion Chinese eating them, that would solve the problem." The proposal was met with silence.
Later in the week, Mr. Li ventured out on an overcast morning to nearby villages. As he pulled up to one village in his black Volkswagen Santana sedan, Mr. Li and a local plant specialist were heartened: Locust populations seemed to have thinned, and many fields of rice and wheat were intact. But when the duo wended through a maze of dirt roads to a more remote community, they met Zhao Shaoshao. A 67-year-old in patched gray pants and a raspberry tank top, he complained that while he was tending to his corn, locusts wiped out a plot of grain. "They ate everything," he said.
Mr. Li suggested the farmer experiment with crops the bugs don't like, such as soybeans, or consider planting trees on the plot and receive a small government subsidy. The farmer demurred. After decades of central planning, farmers have much more autonomy.
As thunder rumbled over the Yinshan mountain range, Mr. Li bent down to wave a hand through a solitary shrub of sorghum. Dozens of small specks flew forth. He quickly pinched one between his fingers. It was a fluttering baby locust.
非常之道
蝗灾已成内蒙古大患
内蒙古包头地区近来可谓祸不单行。先是洪水使附近的村庄变成一片沼泽；然后是冰雹把高粱和玉米砸得遍地狼藉；接著是高温乾旱将大地烤得处处龟裂。
而现在，包头正面临著最令人烦 的灾害：成群结队的蝗虫（大约是正常情况下虫害的四倍多）正沿途袭来，将包头周边及内蒙古其他地方的草地一扫而光。这些蝗虫已经嚼光了大约150万公顷的庄稼和草场，占内蒙古土地总面积的5%，并且还在继续侵害另外130万公顷的植被。
包头市植保站的站长李小锁(Li Xiaosuo, 音译)表示，今年夏天的情况非常糟糕。
李小锁和其他主管农牧业的官员正在发起一场大规模的治蝗战役，因为这些害虫会吃光沿途的植被，而这些植被对于保护北京、天津等周边大城市免受来自戈壁沙漠(Gobi desert)的沙尘暴袭击至关重要。李小锁如果没到地里灭蝗，就在办公室一角的折叠床上趁机小睡片刻。他的眼睛里因为疲惫而布满血丝。这位43岁的官员一边打开一瓶降血压药，吞下3粒药片，一边说，他已是精疲力竭了。
包头市这场和大自然的斗争只是整个中国今夏与自然界抗争的一部份。在中国南方，洪水已经造成了数十亿美元的损失。北方地区则由于工厂大肆浪费水源、草原过度放牧等行为而使旱情更加恶化。
中国的灾情让一些人不禁要问：这个十几亿人口大国的迅速发展是否超越了大自然能够承受的限度？中国社会科学院(Chinese Academy of Social Sciences)驻北京的高级研究员郑毅生(Zheng Yisheng, 音译)表示，这一切并非巧合，如果把所有的事情联系起来，就反映出一个很严重的问题。郑毅生正在编辑出版一本有关中国环境问题的书。
已有多个省区报告出现了严重的蝗灾，这将加速农田草场沙化问题并威胁农民的收入。据中国农业部(Agricultural Ministry)蝗虫防治总指挥部(Locust Control Headquarters)的官员张志山(Zhang Zhishan, 音译)称，蝗灾已经总共危害了4,700万公顷草地。另外两个北方大省的官员也已组织了治蝗工作组，并调动了大量以昆虫为食的鸡鸭用来灭蝗。
几个最大的蝗群正聚集在包头周边地区。包头位于内蒙古广袤草原的边缘地带，那里的牧民通常骑著摩托车放牧。
这次蝗灾主要是亚洲小车蝗(Oedaleus decorus asiaticus)，一种棕褐色的飞蝗，有著头盔状的脑袋，红色的翅膀，背部有黑色的X纹。这种蝗虫在亚洲很常见，但今年的蝗虫有个特别之处：飞高和蹦远的能力惊人。在今年夏季早些时候，内蒙古自治区的首府呼和浩特市也罕见地受到了飞蝗的袭击，当时飞蝗甚至能撞到6楼高的窗户玻璃上。蝗群特别密集，以至于呼和浩特市一些沿街的小摊不得不关门。满街跑的孩子们都拎著装满了蝗虫的罐子。
科学家们猜测，可能是暖和的天气和强劲的风力让蝗虫比往年繁殖的更多，飞的更远。草地被破坏也是原因之一，因为那样更多的蝗虫就会四处迁徙，寻找新鲜食物。
政治方面的因素也起到一定影响。自从中央放弃了对农业种植的严格计划以后，农民们可以种任何他们想种的作物，但同时在治蝗方面，农民们也不再享有同样规模的资金和组织。内蒙古一位官员估计，今年政府大约需要4,100万美元来治蝗。但实际上，尽管温家宝(Wen Jiabao)总理上月发布了紧急令，中央政府为全国范围内的治蝗工作筹集的资金也不过1,030万美元。
还有个因素使治蝗问题更加复杂：年轻一代的农业政府官员往往认为，通过寻找工业投资获得提升的机会比开展环境保护带来的机会大得多。李小锁举著一本有关中国市场改革的厚书说，按照要求他现在应该是在读这本书。
然而，他一直忙于和大自然搏斗。今年春天，急性重症呼吸道综合症(SARS)在当地小规模爆发，李小锁的斗争就拉开了序幕，当时他的办公室和其他政府部门一样被迫关闭。在7月份的大部份时间里，李小锁一直指挥拥有3台农药喷洒机的工作组，与在包头城北100多英里外迅速扩大的飞蝗群作斗争。牧人们已经离开了自己的家园，因为他们的畜群在草地消失以后很难幸存。在每台农药喷洒机喷完杀虫剂后，李小锁会跑到喷药的地方，检查效果。在其他一些地方，他还组织了数十名牧民组成一排人墙，喷药或者挖蝗虫无法飞跃的壕沟。
李小锁解释说，挖壕沟的目的是在不破坏生态环境的前提下尽可能多地消灭害虫。如果喷洒太多的农药，可能也会杀死其他有益的昆虫和动物。结果，大约有三分之一的蝗群在灭蝗行动中劫后余生，它们的幼虫现在又出生了。
蝗灾的强劲反弹无论是在中国还是在西方都有历史记载。汉朝诗人蔡邕把蝗灾和天怒联系在一起，他把蝗灾称作“贪婪和丧失人性的后果”。
当被问及古代这些有关蝗灾的记载时，包头的官员们讲了一个好笑的故事：在唐朝，一位皇帝为了安抚下属，让他们相信蝗灾很快就会被消灭，他吞食了一把活蝗虫。
李小锁在去完草地之后，举办了一桌宴席。在饭桌上，话题自然地转到如何控制蝗虫上。一家种子公司的管理人员王立军(Wang Lijun, 音译)提议道，为什么不让蝗虫成为新的美味？如果13亿中国人都吃蝗虫，问题就解决了。回应这个提议的是一阵沉默。
本周晚些时候一个阴沉的早晨，李小锁去附近的村庄转了一圈。当他和另外一个本地的植物专家驾驶著黑色的桑塔纳轿车来到一个村子的时候，他们感到十分振奋：因为看上去蝗群稀疏多了，许多稻田和麦田都完好无损。但是，当这两人穿越了尘土飞扬的公路，来到更远一点的地方后，情况就不同了──他们碰见了赵绍绍(Zhao Shaoshao, 音译)。这位67岁的老人穿著带补丁的灰色裤子和暗紫色的上衣，他抱怨说，就当他在玉米地里干活的时候，蝗虫吃光了田里的粮食。他说，蝗虫把一切都吃光了。
李小锁建议赵绍绍试著种些蝗虫不喜欢吃的作物，比如大豆，或者考虑在田里种树，领取少量的政府补贴。赵绍绍沉默不语。经历了数十年的政府计划后，在选择作物方面，农民们有了更大的自主权。
远处，一阵隆隆的雷声滚过阴山山脉。李小锁弯下腰在一堆高粱丛中挥了下手，立刻看见数十个黑色的小昆虫飞了出来。李小锁飞快地用手指一捏，在他手指间拚命地挣扎著的正是一只幼小的蝗虫。
