Shared between Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan, the Aral Sea was a large natural reservoir with nearly all of its inflows provided by two rivers, the Amu Darya and Syr Darya (Micklin & Aladin, 2008). Originally the fourth largest inland body of water on Earth, the diversion of both rivers beginning in the 1960's to provide irrigation for cotton and wheat farming within the region has caused it to decline significantly (Fusco & Quagliarotti, 2016); first by separating into two separate smaller seas (Micklin & Aladin, 2008), and then nearly disappearing entirely by the end of 2010's. Local communities historically have relied on the body of water and its abundance of fish to sustain themselves both nutritionally and commercially for generations, as have local plant and marine life.

Desertification of the Aral Sea; left image taken in 2000, right in 2018. Source: NASA

1747 map of Central Asia; Aral Sea in top right. Source: Library of Congress

To better understand the Aral Sea, or really any ecosystem for that matter, it is best to treat it as one big organism. What once was home to 319 different species of birds, 70 different mammal species, and 32 different species of fish, have now been reduced to only a fraction; 60,000 jobs have been lost (Micklin & Aladin, 2008), and the shoreline has receded by 120 kilometers, or 75 miles, in certain locations (Kindler, 1998).

Intensive agricultural practices have damaged the Aral Sea and the lives that relied upon it beyond recognition, but why does it matter? Well first, we must ask ourselves: what do the displaced peoples and animals have to say? If we could have the opportunity to ask the Black Sea Flounder whether it desired to go extinct, would it be indifferent to the knowledge of that possibility? What about the indigenous peoples living in the region, such as the Karakalpaks? Human or not, sentient or not, their presence, and the Aral Sea's presence for that matter, is a testament to the desire and interest to live and to do as they please. In a region that has been denied autonomy, not simply from the perspective of individual humans being denied their rights, but the need to dominate the region from an environmental perspective overall by humans, perhaps it should now be our goal to try and restore the body of water as much as we possibly can.

Rusted boats and other ruins of what once used to be the Aral Sea. Source: BBC

Cotton farmers in Uzbekistan. Source: OZY

Perhaps there is another perspective given less consideration than to the apparent environmental impact. Uzbekistan in particular, which heavily relies on agricultural production as a developing country, has seen real GDP growth at around 8% every year for three consecutive years from 2010-2012, giving the country one of the highest expected growth rates overall (qtd in. Martius et al., 18). Apart from the significant GDP growth, the agricultural sector contributes 25% to Uzbekistan’s GDP as a whole (qtd. in Martius et al., 347), and that contribution becomes even more glaring on a regional scale: Khorezm, a region in south-eastern Uzbekistan that is reliant for its agricultural production on the diversion of water from the Amu Darya river, has 70% of its 1.5 million inhabitants engaged in cotton, wheat, or rice production, and about 27.5% of whom live below the poverty line of $1 USD per day (qtd. in Martius et al., 7). If we end the diversion of water from the Amu Darya, and focus our efforts on the restoration of the Aral Sea, then we are letting the people go hungry, and ensuring economic collapse of the region, if not the country.

This immediately enters into a difficult situation, however: it would be easy to argue that this is an anthropocentric viewpoint, and the prioritization of humans over the potential for a recovery of dozens or hundreds of species that didn’t have a say in their right to exist is indefensible. It would also be fairly easy to argue that the people who rely on this intensive and unsustainable agriculture that shouldn’t exist, is also somewhat “irrelevant.” I believe these arguments, however, are very crude and would only lead to more suffering in the region. After ecological disaster, where hundreds of species of fish, birds, and mammals have been lost, is it worth contributing to the suffering and adding a humanitarian crisis to this situation? I believe the answer is definitely not, though I acknowledge that the agricultural production is still a significant problem. And in fact, it already has with the aforementioned 60,000 jobs that were lost (Micklin & Aladin, 2008), along with the receding shoreline (Kindler, 1998). Those statistics are communities that have already been displaced. Ideally, not only can there be a restoration effort of the Aral Sea, but the Uzbek government can transition people living in these vulnerable regions to work that is beneficial to them in ending poverty and raising wages, along with bringing back the species that called the Aral Sea home.