Seeds Of Tomorrow by Pedro F Marcelino

The 80’s. The idea of a seed bank appears for the first time, when politics is dominated by the oppressing, castrating threat of a major nuclear showdown. The idea was not original: Noah’s Ark, so claims the legend, was filled with a male and a female specimen of each animal of the Creation. Ancient Egyptians and some pre-Hispanic peoples of South and Central America traditionally kept special seeds in safe houses, perhaps as a last resource in case of… anything. In the 60’s, US children ritually filled time capsules with childhood memorabilia to be dug up decades later in someone’s backyard.

(The tradition persists, with 21st century space crafts being sent astray with seed samples, text databases and audio libraries for the passing-by alien of the future.)

Spitsbergen Island, in the archipelago of Svalbard, Arctic Polar Circle, was back then pointed as a perfect location to host a seed bank for future generations. With only 2,330 inhabitants and strict laws that limit any new arrivals, Spitsbergen is perhaps one of the most isolated human communities in the world. Located at about 81 degrees north latitude, it has only two significant settlements, Longyearbyen and Ny Ǻlesund. The northernmost phone booth and mailbox are located there, as are the northernmost marathon and polar jazz festival (both in June), among other chilly superlatives. Summer temperatures are scarcely above the freezing point, and typical winter temperatures neighbour -30, or even -50 with wind chill.

The location would have been appropriate, if it were not for Star Wars: the Cold War was far from over. A 1920 treaty with Norway gave Soviet Union’s mining companies exploitation rights in coal-rich Spitsbergen, and perhaps the presence of the “enemy” represented too much of a jeopardy for such a sensitive project. That attitude, in fact, potentially implied the anihilation of the Soviet Union, or the desire to save only non-Communists after a major catastrophe had taken place.

Whichever the case, the idea never went through, ending up in a drawer. Nor did a major catastrophe occur (yet).

In 2004, the United Nations Food and Agricultural Organization (FAO), the Global Crop Diversity Trust and the Foreign Ministry of the Kingdom of Norway signed a treaty that finally opened the road for something feasible, which was to be announced as the first step in an ambitious, albeit necessary, project. Sponsored by the Norwegian Government and the private trust, the seed bank now means to establish a workable basis for a new start, should nuclear war occur, but also in case of major crop diseases or any catastrophic natural disasters (such as earthquakes, extreme climate changes or gigantic volcanic eruptions). This resource will only be used when all other alternatives have been explored. In the words of Cary Fowler, the Trust’s Executive Secretary, “if worse came to worst, this would allow the world to reconstruct agriculture in the planet”.

Established in association with FAO, the Trust’s mission is the collection and preservation of edible plants diversity, mostly resourcing to seed banks the world over. Ideally, several other modern seed banks will be placed in safe points of the globe, using a similar co-operative structure.

A vast majority of the seeds being safeguarded by this project will be received from existing banks in Africa, Latin America and Asia, where security and climate conditions do not guarantee preservation. Experts have warned that the world subsists on a relatively small number of crops, and that most of the population uses little more than 150 species as a nutritional basis. Genetic diversity is decreasing swiftly, as the risk for major perturbations visibly grows.

The vault is to be installed in the depths of a sandstone Spitsbergen mountain covered with permafrost, where one-metre-thick concrete walls will enclose the seeds, kept sealed from terrorists, global warming or nuclear radiation by blast-proof doors. If electricity fails, for some reason, permafrost will promptly naturally replace the artificial deep-freeze. This will be the world’s safest gene bank to date.

From a global situation where nuclear weapons were available to a selected few – the US, the USSR, Britain and France, the “European nuclear umbrella” – the international community saw China acquire them, followed by India and Pakistan (technically, still at war), allegedly also Israel and South Africa. Not only that, but many other developed and developing nations chose, with mixed results, to invest in nuclear energy to supply domestic needs – Spain, Brazil, Italy, Germany, Canada, to name a few. The fall of the USSR in 1989 brought an unprecedented danger, as the world’s second nuclear nation suddenly was unable to assure the security of its own weapons and power plants, scattered throughout a score of new independent republics (mostly in Ukraine and Kazakhstan). But in an era when any status quo is old within months, it is hardly surprising that Iraq eventually started its own nuclear programme, followed by uranium enrichment (did it ever happen?). Or that Iran now follows suit. Or that countries such as North Korea or Syria conduct their own programmes. It is difficult to justify to any nation why it is that nuclear endeavours are limited to those who can, as opposed to those who want – the best gig in realpolitik. It grows harder as many western countries, simultaneously, develop their own energy-oriented programmes for the first time, as the easy way out of oil dependency, while the UN’s directorium does not seem to bother them. Finally, as the world’s first nuclear power becomes a bullying state – in the eyes of many – it is only fair that third parties ask themselves why should a traditionally aggressive, war-driven nation be allowed to possess an array of nuclear weapons, while preventing others from an equal right. Why should only the power circle have that privilege, and why not, say, Djibouti? With these dilemmas on today’s agenda, and the rule of war over politics seemingly far from a 20th century anachronism, it is understandable that the nuclear threat still dwells on our minds – and feasible that it actually looms over our heads. This project is only a scary reminder of human history.

Having seen Ice Age (and the squirrel who lost his pre-historic nuts), however, three questions loom in my mind: who will be around to remember where the seeds are, after a nuclear war? And if someone is indeed around, how will they reach Svalbard to fetch them, anyway? Even if they do, how is the safest safe to be open?

Alfred Einstein’s words, dozens of years ago, on the brink of the nuclear revolution that would change Earth forever: “I do not know how will World War II be fought, but the Third I know: it will be with sticks and stones.“ (sic)