In coastal regions worldwide, people have drained swampy areas, sometimes filling them in with soil, and then developed that newly solid land. This process, known as land reclamation, comes with an environmental cost.
National Geographic Explorer Paul Salopek has seen it up close, right under his boots, and written about it in a recent article while he continues on his Out of Eden Walk, tracing the path of human migration.
“Well, basically, what we’re talking here is a big lid of bulldozed earth and concrete that’s on top of a sarcophagus of what used to be a big wetlands,” Salopek told The World’s Host Carolyn Beeler.
Carolyn Beeler: A sarcophagus of what used to be wetlands. You’re talking here about Saemangeum, atidal flat on the coast of the Yellow Sea in South Korea, of course. Describe what this place used to be.
Paul Salopek: So, it’s kind of a bay or inlet between two headlands in South Korea on the Yellow Sea. And two rivers spill into it. And way back in the 1980s, there was a government plan to build a giant wall between the two headlands and seal off this giant wetlands to drain it.
That was back in the ’80s, you say. So, the ecosystem changed a lot when that happened. What did you see when you arrived there?
Carolyn, it’s hard to describe the size of this mega project. I do believe it’s the longest seawall in the world. It’s like 21 miles or 33km long. It’s as tall as a four-story building. Sort of this colossal manmade object, extending as far as the eye can see, kind of bulging out from this coast into the Yellow Sea. So, going there today, you see a lot of dead mud. You see dried-out vast flats of what used to be mudflats, where there is lots of life and steel machinery still working. Even though this project was conceived in the ’80s, it didn’t really start until the ’90s, and it didn’t wind down until 2010.
And so, why was it built? What was the idea?
It’s changed over time. It was originally built by the last military dictatorship in South Korea to grow rice. Rice was a big commodity back then. There was a scarcity. And so, they wanted to convert 400 square kilometers (154 square miles) of what used to be a wetland into rice paddies. What they discovered as they started draining it is that commercial rice farming wasn’t viable. Their reason for building it has changed over time, which has added an element of disillusionment to the local people. Now, it’s supposed to be something else.
What is it supposed to be now?
Well, the list is long. I mean now, they’ve gone from a rice-growing area — it didn’t work — [to] kind of eco-friendly industrial zones, a free trade zone, maybe a cruise ship landing port, tourism. They’re like throwing anything at the wall that’ll stick.
And so, those are all ideas that have not come to fruition yet?
You know, I didn’t see much beyond the massive $3 billion seawall. In the literature that this organization puts out, as a government or agency building, this thing, there are sketches, mock-ups of big centers, ports, whatnot. I didn’t see much other than a lot of drying mud.
Are they still building the seawall, or is that complete?
No, the seawall is complete. It was completed in 2010, but they’re still kind of digging channels for the final drainage. They’re building roads. So, it looks eerily like an unfinished housing tract development. There are no houses, but there are like platted pieces of square dry mud.
You spent time with an environmental activist there named Oh Dong-pil. What did he tell you about the impact of this sea wall on wildlife in particular?
I joined him out there digging into the mud. He was trying to show me sort of how the mudflat has changed. These mudflats, they’re not very aesthetic. You know, they don’t look like much. They look like big surfaces of wet soil that get flooded by the sea. But they are hugely important, biologically, as nurseries for fish, sources of food for birds, etc. Every time he was plunging his shovel into the mud, he said, “Paul, when I would do this before the seawall, it would be teeming with clams, with crabs, with worms, other life.” And every one of his shovelfuls now was sterile. So, his associates in this area, other environmentalists, they’re appalled and saddened that they basically turned this area into a giant desert.
You wrote that there is one small area of mud that is full of life, you saw. Wild pigs, water, deer, water, snakes, raccoon dogs and Eurasian beaver. What makes that place special? Why are animals thriving there?
Yeah, well, Mr. Oh wanted to show me, kind of, to peel back time. Go in a time machine and say, “Hey, look how it used to be,” right? So, he drove me to this corner of the former wetlands. It was kind of paradisiacal, right? There’s a kind of waist-high grass. There were channels where water was still pulsing in and out, flushing. Seawater was flushing the ecosystem. There were lots of birds, including endangered birds … spoonbills flying overhead. But what was very sobering, despite this kind of beautiful postcard picture, is that when he told me, standing on top of a dirt berm, he said, “Paul, this is 2%. This is all that’s left.”
I gather, though, that there is a battle with the government over the seawall. Is that still ongoing? And if so, what is the status of it?
I think in a project that lasts decades, billions have been invested. It’s been challenged in court. There have been media campaigns. There have been marches of people from Saemangeum, going all the way to the capitol in Seoul to protest how this project has been developed. It’s sort of done. I mean, the seawall’s there. The damage is sort of done. Now, the debate is if there’s a decision to kind of bring some of it back, can it be done? And is there the political will to open up the sluice gates and let the sea back in? After having spent billions of dollars keeping it out, right?
It sounds like a massive government infrastructure project that has gone awry.
That’s it. I mean, basically human hubris, regardless of whether the original intention was good and wise. Growing food, that’s a good thing, right? And economic development, that’s a good thing. But just the massive energy and resources that were put into this, what I got a sense of talking to local people and reading the literature about it, is that it became this economic juggernaut that, even when it wasn’t working, just kind of kept on like zombie development. It’s sunk investment. That’s kind of the lesson I took away.
And you got a little philosophical in your post about this, writing about mud and the nature of mud. Do you see it any differently now than you did before this walk?
Yeah, I know. It’s just walking through acres and acres of mud with a biologist, driving past this kind of dead wetlands, getting mud on my hands, getting out to visit with tourists trying to find the last clams that might still exist on the beach. I started to think about what is mud after all, right? It’s earth, and it’s water and it’s motion. It requires motion. Mud can’t just settle, or it turns into kind of stone after a while. It requires tides, requires movement. And I thought that’s who we are. That is what life is. That’s what human beings are, that we kind of have these qualities of mud within us. And so, it was very sad to kind of put your hand into this mud and realize that there just wasn’t much living in it anymore. There was no kind of living connection to it.
Parts of the interview have been edited for length and clarity.
Writer and National Geographic Explorer Paul Salopek has embarked on a 24,000-mile storytelling trek across the world called the “Out of Eden Walk.” The National Geographic Society, committed to illuminating and protecting the wonder of our world, has funded Salopek and the project since 2013. Explore the project here. Follow the journey on X at @PaulSalopek, @outofedenwalk and also at @InsideNatGeo.
Will you support The World?
The story you just read is not locked behind a paywall because listeners and readers like you generously support our nonprofit newsroom. Now more than ever, we need your help to support our global reporting work and power the future of The World. Can we count on you?