Trash talk
Canada? It doesn’t seem to compute. One of the most ecological-minded countries on earth, not to mention among the friendliest, with warm and stable relations with much of the international community unlike its pushy, more problematic neighbor to the south—why would a country like Canada be caught in an attempted smuggling into the Philippines of trash mislabeled as recyclable plastics?
Last week, the Bureau of Customs was able to intercept a shipment of 50 container vans of plastic trash at the Port of Manila. The shipment came from Canada. Did that country’s government have any hand in the literally malodorous move to try to dump its garbage in another country’s backyard? Details are hazy at this point, but Canadian activists are themselves enraged at the news, and blame their government for it.
“We are deeply embarrassed at how government policies here have caused such bad behavior by some toward the environment and the good people of the Philippines. This is a disgrace,” Buddy Boyd of Zero Waste Canada was quoted as saying.
This is not, of course, the first time that the Philippines became the intended dumping ground for the detritus of other countries. In 2012, a US naval ship dumped toxic waste in Subic. The contractor that extracted the waste from the US Navy vessel Emory Land claimed that the material had been pretreated before it was released into Philippine waters, but the commander of Emory Land himself said the ship had no waste treatment facility, which was why third-party contractors had to be hired.
After the usual hue and cry, the issue quickly vanished from the headlines. No report of recompense has come in for the violation of environmental laws, or of any rehabilitation effort that the US Navy and its designated contractor have done to mitigate the damage to Subic waters.
Late in 2006, similar outrage greeted the news that the Philippine government under the then president, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo, was about to sign the Japan-Philippines Economic Partnership Agreement with Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi, which activists said would have legalized the importation into the country of toxic wastes and hazardous materials from Japan. The Philippines, it turned out, was the one that pitched the offer; the Japanese government said it would only forward waste to the country if the Philippines would officially allow it.
The Jpepa was signed in 2007 and ratified by the Senate in 2008, but the public outcry fortunately spooked the negotiating parties into drafting two side agreements stipulating that Japan would not export hazardous waste to the Philippines, and that provisions in the Philippine Constitution and other pertinent laws on public safety and environmental protection are observed.
It’s worth noting that, in all three cases, the countries involved are well-known for their own progressive ecological policies. Canada, the United States and Japan are technologically advanced countries with strict regulations on the treatment and disposal of garbage; the protection of their air, water, and other natural resources; and the promotion of the health and wellbeing of their citizens. Indiscriminate dumping of toxic waste within their borders merit severe penalties. Why, then, do they appear to be cavalier about forwarding their effluents and rubbish to other nations?
That can only be because other countries with venal or weak governments are only too willing to accommodate them. It boggles the mind to recall that the Arroyo administration itself had offered the possibility of hazardous waste imports into the country to sweeten the trade deal with Japan—but only as a negotiating tactic, it said then.
“One of the items included is what we call hazardous toxic wastes,” said Peter Favila, the then trade secretary, in January 2007. “It does not mean that we allow them to ship waste to us… If we didn’t do it, we would be forced to offer another product. It’s a negotiation strategy.”
If the public hadn’t smelled a rat, of course, and raised a stink about it, that provisional offer would have become permanent. That sort of public vigilance remains crucial at this time, because, even as the Philippines struggles with its own waste disposal problems (about 75 percent of rubbish found in Manila Bay is composed of plastic waste, 25 percent of it plastic bags, according to the EcoWaste Coalition), it may end up becoming the dumping ground of other countries without a firm “No, not ever” from the government.
