Suriname faces a familiar dilemma in the American tropics: the promise of modernization brought by foreign agribusiness. This proposal often comes with the promise of employment and prosperity, but Mark J. Plotkin’s analysis in Mongabay suggests it may bring more problems than benefits if it relies on extensive monocultures, massive exportation, and foreign control of the land.
The Impact of Soy on Suriname’s Future
It’s not a question of whether Suriname should increase its food production, but what kind of agriculture it wants to develop. With an impressive 94.5% of its territory covered by forest according to the World Bank, Suriname faces the choice of maintaining its rich forest cover or sacrificing it to feed external markets.
Soy production presents itself as a quick route to progress. Large extensions, state-of-the-art machinery, and exports seem attractive to governments seeking revenue. However, this industrialized model requires little labor. It employs few people using harvesters and technology like GPS systems, leaving temporary jobs that are poorly paid and rarely benefit the local population.
Plotkin highlights that this pattern has been repeated in other parts of the tropical Americas. The forest is cut down, water bodies are contaminated, and the wealth generated is directed abroad. For a country as small as Suriname, these are not trivial decisions.
Suriname does not start from scratch in this discussion. Its forest is a vital part of its economy and culture. According to the MAAP analysis, about 467,000 hectares of forest could be allocated to new agricultural plans, of which 451,000 hectares are primary forests. Compared to an average loss of 6,560 hectares annually over the past two decades, the impact could be significant.
Additionally, Suriname has committed to permanently protect 90% of its tropical forests by 2025, establishing itself as a global benchmark. This commitment increases the pressure to ensure its agricultural practices do not contradict its environmental discourse.
The soy monoculture not only alters the landscape but also affects water resources. Intensive agriculture requires fertilizers and pesticides that can leach into rivers and fishing areas, impacting the daily diet and livelihood of many Surinamese families whose diet depends on fish.
The country also faces significant environmental challenges with artisanal mining using mercury. The expansion of agricultural infrastructure could increase mining pressure in remote areas.
Rejecting an agricultural model does not mean rejecting agriculture itself. Suriname needs to improve its local production, reduce dependence on imports, and strengthen its food security, especially in the face of rising energy and transportation costs.
The real debate revolves around who controls the land. If the lands remain in the hands of foreign entities, decisions about production and benefits may drift away from community and national interest. Plotkin poses three crucial questions: “Who benefits? Who sacrifices? And what will be left for future generations?”
These questions must be considered before any agricultural agreement. If only a few benefit while communities and primary forests are sacrificed, the business ceases to be development and becomes a future debt.
Therefore, Suriname should demand comprehensive environmental assessments, real employment statistics, guarantees on water use, and ensure that indigenous and Maroon communities are consulted. Promises of prosperity must be backed with tangible evidence.
