Agreements, disagreements, and unfinished business for next year's G20

Protests were tightly controlled at this year's summit, and inside the conference centre was no more

The carpet in the press room of this year's G20 is a lurid shade of fluorescent green, designed perhaps to make up for the lack of windows in the basement of the "Palais des Festivals" on the seafront in Cannes. The articles the world's press were disseminating from here were not so bright, as the G20 wrapped up without any show-stopping news.

Leaders had hoped to immediately shore up emergency funds for the European Financial Stability Facility (EFSF) and/or International Monetary Fund, meaning countries could borrow money and avoid Greece's fiscal troubles spreading. But the resources for this "firewall" did not materialise, amid rumours, confirmed and denied, that Merkel and her cheque book had left ahead of time.

A side drama involving the IMF emerged as Italy acquiesced to have them keep an eye on their fiscal reforms -- an indignity that the G20 doesn't trust them to do it themselves.

G8 and G20 headlines are often dominated by protests, but this year they were limited to the days preceding the event itself. Many demonstrations took place: campaigners against food price speculation, nurses unions coming together from around the globe, an army of clowns, bank busters dressed as ghost busters. But the authorities kept a tight grip not just on when they could happen, but where -- the majority were confined to the nearby town of Nice, 20 miles away.

An estimated 15,000 protestors were matched almost one to one by 12,000 police. Checkpoints and steel barricades protected the G20 and the centre of Cannes, leaving the lines of luxury shops free to remain open, although they were completely devoid of customers. In the bay, frogmen swam in between super-yachts and police patrolled on jetskis.

Given that protestors' demands focused on financial sector reform, the irony that this year's G20 took place in the super-rich's summer playground and inside a casino was not lost. Many of their demands were swept off the table as the Greek saga unfolded, but one idea did break through thanks to a true double-Bill. On the first day of official G20 business, Bill Gates and Bill Nighy gave a boost to the Robin Hood Tax proposal.

Gates did back-to-back briefings on his "innovative finance" smart ideas, including a small tax on financial transactions that could raise $50billion a year for development and climate change. Nighy said in an interview with the Guardian: "This is a key moment for Robin Hood Tax. It is possible there will be a group of pioneer countries that will come out in favour here". He also rounded on the proposal's critics, saying "the other complaint is that all the bankers will move to Switzerland, but there was an article in the Economist recently showing that bankers are moving back because Geneva is so dull".

By the final day's press conference, Sarkozy was able to announce that a group of G20 countries were taking this forward, giving him some success, although other countries remained opposed. Cameron took to the stage after Sarkozy and repeated the mantra through gritted teeth that agreement had been reached to resolve the euro crisis, bolster the IMF and avoid protectionism -- but all at a later date.

So in summary, there were agreements, agreements to make agreements, some disagreements and a lot of unfinished business for the G20 to pick up in Mexico next June.

Simon Chouffot is a freelance journalist and media specialist.

Simon Chouffot is a spokesperson for the Robin Hood Tax campaign and writes on the role of the financial sector in our society.

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The wildfire victims of forestry neglect - and the trees that saved them

Events in Portugal show how present mismanagement of the natural world reaches far beyond climate change, while also leaving communities more vulnerable to its effects.

When guesthouse owner Liedewij Schieving first heard about the wildfire in nearby Pedrogado Grande, she wasn’t overly concerned. “We always have fires here,” she explains at her home deep in the central Portugese forest.

It was only later that night, eating outside with her 11 guests, that the fear set in: “The wind was starting to smell and the sunset looked weird and dark.” By early the next morning the vast wall of flames had breached their remote valley. “I’ve never been in a war,” Liedewij says, still shaken, “but it was how I imagine war to sound.”

Soaring to temperatures of over 800 centigrade - high enough to melt windscreens and sink tyres into tarmac - the inferno eventually burned over 30,000 hectares of forest. By the time it was quelled, 64 adults and children had lost their lives, some dying trapped in their cars as they tried to escape down an unsafe road. “The biggest tragedy of human life we have known in years,” is how the country’s Prime Minister responded to the news on 18 June.

Two months later, the Pedrogado fire has proved the precusor to another summer of extreme weather events. Across southern and central Europe recent weeks have seen high winds and low humidity whip up wildfires everywhere from Spain to Serbia. At time of writing, 2,000 people in Portugal are trapped in the town of Mação as flames and smoke block their exit. In France, fires recently forced over 20,000 people from their homes and campervans.

Climate change is an unmistakable culprit. A Carbon Brief analysis of 140 studies from around the world found that 63 per cent of extreme weather events are linked to human-caused warming - making them either more likely or more severe.

Yet as countries assess the damage, evidence of humanity’s wider mismanagement of nature is also becoming harder to ignore. In Portugal, the excessive planting of eucalytpus trees is taking some of the blame for recent events. The species is the timber of choice for the country’s powerful paper industry, covering both industry-owned plantations and hundreds of tiny private smallholdings who sell it on. But it also happens to be highly flammable: think Grenfell cladding but spread over nearly a million hectares of land.

Liedewij’s story is evidence of this. Where dense eucalyptus forest once hid her home in dappled shade, the hillside is now charred and bare. “It was terrible,” she says of the moment she opened the gates for the farm animals before fleeing the valley, “we thought we were leaving them behind to grill”. Except that, as in all good disaster films, Liedewij’s goats didn’t burn - and nor did her picturesque house. Instead, fire-retardant willow trees by a nearby stream held the flames naturally at bay. On returning the next morning, she even found the hens laying eggs.

Liedewij Schieving outside her B&B at Quinta da Fonte - the bare hills behind the house show just how close the fire came.

Seen from above, her remote farmstead is now a tiny island of green amid a sea of black. She still panics at the smell from the woodfired heating, but support has poured in from friends both in Portugal and her native Holland, and she soon plans to fully re-open Quinta da Fonte B&B. Many guesthouses in nearby villages have already got back up and running.

Others among her neighbours, however, are not so lucky. Over 10,000 separate fires have destroyed 141,000 hectares of land in Portugal this year alone, with the annual cost of wildfire losses estimated to reach around €200m. A situation that risks further perpetuating the cycle of poverty and neglect that also played their part in the tragedy.

According to Domingos Patacho from the environmental NGO Quercus, the forest has become more hazardous as many of central Portugal's thousands of smallscale landholders leave their land untended to seek better wages elsewhere. Meanwhile, those who remain are often financially dependent on the income from the eucalyptus. They could choose to plant less flammable and water-hungry species, such as native corks or oaks, Patacho explains, but these can take twice as long to mature and provide a return.

The result is rising tension between the Portugese paper industry and the central government. After the June fire, the parliament pledged to push ahead with plans to limit the monoculture plantations. But the country’s Association of the Paper industry has previously warned that any ban on new plantations could hurt exports and jobs.

The reality is that both sides of the eucalyptus spread - both industry-owned and private - need improved regulation. But in a country only recently released from EU imposed austerity measures, debates over how enforcement could be financed are particularly tense. Not least since many areas do not even have an up to date land register, Patacho expplains.

At ESAC, an agrarian research base in central Portugal, professor Antonio Ferreira believes the time is now ripe for discussion between politicians, citizens and researchers about the future of forest land-use as a whole. The country needs to encourage people “to re-introduce native species, which will diversify the landscape and economic activity in those areas,” he says.

And the impulse is far from limited to Portugal. “We need to look at all the social aspects to get the full picture as well as the scientific side of forest management,” says WWF’s Jabier Ruiz of Europe’s wider wildfire problems. One route out of the woods may be greater EU policy support for those living in marginalised, rural areas, he adds.

What is clear is that as the continent warms, the need to improve the balance between social, environmental and commercial interests becomes ever more crucial. And while politicians debate, work at Liedewij’s home is already underway. Over the next few weeks, a group of her eco-minded friends, builders and topographers will help her re-build and re-landscape her farm. From digging terraces to stop landslides, to preventing the eucalyptus from re-emerging too close to the roads, their aim is to regrow a forest that works for all: a slow-burn project perhaps, but a bright one.

India Bourke is an environment writer and editorial assistant at the New Statesman.