JUDY WOODRUFF: The Democratic
Republic of Congo is a massive
country, the size of Alaska
and Texas combined. It's also
home to a large part of the
Congo Basin rain forest. That
is the world's second
largest after the Amazon.
It is the habitat for countless
species, and crucial to
mitigating climate change, as it
soaks up atmospheric
carbon dioxide.
One of the major threats
comes from illegal and
uncontrolled logging.
In partnership with the Pulitzer
Center, special correspondent
Monica Villamizar reports.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: Pygmies have
lived in the forests of the
Democratic Republic of Congo
for generations. After
five years of campaigning,
the village of Lokolama
became one of the
first indigenous communities
in the country to be given
titles to their ancestral land.
In March 2019, the whole
village celebrated when more
than 20,000 acres of forest was
handed over to them to
sustainably manage. But
the joy and dancing was
short lived. Fast-forward
to today and village elder,
Joseph Bonkile, says that the
threat of climate change and
widespread logging is
ruining that dream.
JOSEPH BONKILE, Lokolama Village
Elder (through translator): We
will die and lose everything.
Our children will suffer. They
will die from the effects of
rising temperatures and climate
change. We must protect
the forest from logging.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: The
government of Congo
DRC has a forest code
that determines which
trees can be cut and how many,
but there is little enforcement.
Despite international and
national laws designed
to protect the rain
forest, from 2001 to 2018,
Congo DRC lost 6 percent of
all the forest in the country,
an area similar to the size
of Mississippi.
Congolese environmental activist
Irene Wabiwa accuses logging
companies of abusing the system.
IRENE WABIWA BETOKO, Greenpeace:
Many companies are using fraud
to legalize what is not legal.
What is happening on the ground
is that these companies, they
are coming, using their own
power and money. They get
permits and they falsify or
modify it to get more volume of
timber that they will cut.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: So, why do
you think the government is not
doing more? Who is responsible
for this, and why are
they not doing enough?
IRENE WABIWA BETOKO:
Governance in Congo is
very poor. Corruption
is very high. So, when
you have power, you have
money, you can do what you
want in the forest sector.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: Greenpeace
has campaigned against illegal
logging for many years. It
argues timber consumed globally
should be traced to its origin.
Normally, a system of marks
ensures that each log that is
cut down is accounted for. The
marks mirror those at the stump
and also have information about
the location where the tree
was cut. But Greenpeace says,
much of the timber leaving
Congo is cut without permission
and manages to reach the
final destination with
counterfeit marks or permit.
We joined environmental
activist Etienne Kasiraca
on a fact-finding mission
deep into the forest.
Many of Congo's forests are
only accessible by river boat.
The reason why so many
African parks have been
spared of logging is
because the infrastructure
is so poor that getting
the timber out becomes
very expensive. But this
is not the case here
in this part of the DRC, because
the Congo River is such a
good means of transportation.
We arrived at a
concession operated by
the Congolese-registered
Bakri Bois Corporation.
Kasiraca decided to visit
the site now, as he had heard
that the timber workers were
on strike, and we could enter
the concession. These places are
normally guarded and off-limits
to visits from
environmentalists and reporters.
Licenses and paperwork are the
only way to prove the timber
is legal, and that loggers
are not chopping down trees
that are too old, too young or
endangered. But Kasiraca says
he has rarely seen a
company operate with a
valid license in this area.
Do you think a lot of
this is going on in
the Congolese forest?
ETIENNE KASIRACA, Environmental
Activist (through translator):
Yes, it's a major problem, not
an isolated case. In
other areas, it's even
worse than here. The
forest is being pillaged.
No one respects the law.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: What do you
know about the paperwork this
corporation has, for instance?
Do they have a license
to be cutting this wood?
ETIENNE KASIRACA (through
translator): They had a license
to log here issued in 2018.
It was valid for that year, but
has now expired, but they still
continue logging regardless.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: The
logs are tied together,
forming makeshift rafts
and floated to the
capital, Kinshasa. This is the
port of Kinkole, one of the
many hubs in and around Kinshasa
used for processing rain forest
timber from the Congo Basin.
Many of these trees facing the
chopping block are hundreds of
years old. Local authorities
check the mark on the timber
to see that it corresponds
with the right permit.
The log number, the owner's
name or initials, the month
and the log number, correct?
Barouti represents 300
small-scale loggers known
as artisanal loggers.
He says, on average,
people like him only cut down
around 150 trees per year, while
large-scale industrial loggers
cut down tens of thousands.
Under Congolese law, small-scale
loggers are given a special
permit to work in their local
forests. But foreign companies
are using these licenses to log
on an industrial scale. Next
to this port and visible from
the air, there is a large timber
mill operated by a Chinese
company, where hundreds of
logs piled up. We were not
allowed to film inside.
BAROUTI, Artisanal Logger
(through translator):
The Chinese logging
company has pushed down
prices so much that artisanal
loggers like us can't compete.
We can each only afford
to float our logs down river
once a year, while the Chinese
company brings in two full
ferries of wood each week.
MONICA VILLAMIZAR: Widespread
logging of the Congo Basin
continues to go unchecked, and
this trend of deforestation
is set to go on, with
irreversible consequences.
For the "PBS NewsHour," I'm
Monica Villamizar in the
Democratic Republic of Congo.
JUDY WOODRUFF:
Thank you, Monica.
And, for the record, the story
was filmed before the pandemic.