The tsunami catastrophe drew attention to the challenge of inadequate relief and rehabilitation measures compounding the horrors of natural disasters, writes Lyla Mehta* As Roman scholar Pliny the Elder once remarked: "The only certainty is that nothing is certain." Several millennia on, the Indian Ocean earthquake-triggered killer waves, or tsunami, represent uncertainty on an unprecedented scale. Natural calamities such as earthquakes and typhoons are known to periodically hit the southern Asian coast and the communities and countries affected by the tsunami are no strangers to local- level shocks and uncertainty -- a situation where we don't know what we don't know. However, what's new is that the magnitude of the disaster and the ecological, livelihood and knowledge uncertainties involved are global in scope and have rarely been experienced in our lifetime. This calls for universal responses aimed at immediate recovery and rehabilitation and, more importantly, for the deployment of future preventive measures. Research at Britain's Institute of Development Studies, University of Sussex, has focussed on various forms of uncertainty (with respect to ecology, livelihoods and knowledge) and its crucial role in shaping environmental and technological governance. Thus, earthquakes like the one that took place in Sumatra on 26 December, 2004, represent ecological uncertainty and the quake and tsunami are the result of a dynamic and ever-changing landscape and geology. But ecological uncertainty has a certain arbitrariness to it. Here temporal and spatial dimensions are mutable -- disaster strikes in a random way affecting all, from Western tourists on sun-kissed beaches to the poor and vulnerable who tend to risk the most. Indeed, many of the fishing and island communities affected by the tsunami disaster represent some of Asia's most vulnerable and neglected populations. The isolated tribes of the Andaman and Nicobar islands and fisherfolk across the region have largely sustained their livelihoods without the attention or help of policy-makers and planners and no doubt have learnt to adapt to the very many vagaries, risks and shocks that nature occasionally imposes. But both for local people as well as for bureaucrats and policy-makers, the "livelihood uncertainties" and survival threats caused by the tsunami disaster are unparalleled due to issues of scale and magnitude. Thus the measures required to provide relief and rehabilitation to the millions affected and rendered homeless require global, national and local efforts and coordination that have hitherto been unknown in disaster management. Such a globalised tragedy also needs globalised responses and the "double tragedy" so prevalent in earthquakes must be avoided. The aftermath of the 2001 Kutch earthquake in Gujarat, India, revealed that while little can be done to prevent the first tragedy, namely the actual natural disaster, the most avoidable tragedy comprises flawed relief and rehabilitation measures, the poor distribution of aid and essentials such as water, especially on the part of state and official agencies. Finally, the tsunami embodies "knowledge and scientific uncertainties" which pose specific challenges for future disasters. On the one hand, the Indian Ocean earthquake came as no big surprise to experts on geo-science in the region. Thus clearly more awareness about future tsunami threats could have been raised and advance information about the killer waves could have helped avert tragedy and dramatically reduce the death tolls -- especially in India and Sri Lanka which were hit about two hours after Sumatra. But we must also not forget that the science and knowledge of such phenomena are still inexact and also uncertain. Many tsunami predictions can also be false and entail high costs as is exemplified by the false warning in Tamil Nadu, India. Moreover, even if knowledge uncertainty is eliminated, there is a long journey before the knowledge and information held by a few scientific experts, often in Western countries, can be made accessible and usable to local scientists, bureaucrats, let alone the affected and largely disenfranchised communities in coastal areas. This is where the governance of science and technology in disaster prevention emerges as key. Scientific and technological expertise on warning systems and disaster prevention needs to be decentralised, built on local knowledge systems and must be affordable to both developing country nations as well as poor communities which bear the brunt of uncertainty. Living with and managing uncertainty requires flexible and adaptive approaches to environmental governance and disaster management. Unfortunately, these are often more prevalent in local communities than in national and international bureaucracies. Based on my past research and personal experiences in Kutch where I have done extensive research on water scarcity, I am confident that the survivors, once out of immediate danger, will rebuild their homes and lives. In Kutch, within two weeks of the disaster, the survivors had resourcefully used old tiles, cotton crop residues, plastic and thatch to make make- shift dwellings. But will the international community, national governments and bureaucracies be able to think on their feet and respond with similar flexibility in order to cope with this unprecedented challenge? After all, immense coordination of relief and rehabilitation efforts and the disbursement of aid -- both financial and material -- are required in order to prevent the "double tragedy". Moreover, science and technology development and technological governance to ensure pre-emptive action against future tsunamis are absolutely essential for the Indian Ocean. That uncertainty and dramatic changes are part of the earth's landscape history is of little consolation to those who have lost their lives, loved ones, livelihoods and belongings. The globalised nature of the disaster has united the entire world, since the fate of tourists in Thailand, isolated islanders and communities in Nicobar and Aceh and fisherfolk in Sri Lanka is now intrinsically intertwined. While we mourn the loss of the 156,000 people dead, we are painfully reminded that 2004's worst weapon of destruction turned out to be the sea. This is the same sea that we frolic and fish in, often revere and depend on for our sustenance. Perhaps one small sliver of hope amidst the gloomy start to 2005 may be the recovery of the term "human security". Since 9/11, the dominant orthodoxy has recast "security" to mean freedom from terrorist threats and weapons of mass destruction in whose name an imperialist war has been waged and billions of dollars diverted from development work and poverty reduction. But unlike what world and national politicians and leaders would have us believe, human security is not just about ridding the world of terrorist threats. It is more about human survival, dignity and about sustaining lives and livelihoods on earth, simultaneously our nurturer and destroyer. * The writer is a research fellow at the Institute of Development Studies, University of Sussex.
