Planting Trees to Heal Old Wounds: Can a Desert Forest Save the Aral’s Last Residents?
In the Aralkum Desert, afforestation campaigns have multiplied since the early 2000s. They are meant to slow the sandstorms, temper a rapidly warming climate, and protect the health of those still living in the shadow of the Aral Sea. But the promised results have not appeared yet. The road from Aralsk to Aiteke Bi cuts through a palette of ochre and dust. Trucks drift forward in pale clouds, dragging the desert behind them like a long train. In these villages scattered along the former shoreline of the Aral Sea, the wind never leaves. It is abrasive, restless, and a witness to a vanished water body that once cooled the hottest corner of Kazakhstan. Respiratory diseases now run through family histories, and doctors say they can recognize lungs shaped by ecological collapse. At the polyclinic in Aiteke Bi, patients describe the same symptoms with weary precision: breath shortening too quickly, coughs that never fully recede, a fatigue that never seems to lift. Nuralay, 52, says the storms “get into the house, into the throat, into everything.” She admits she cannot remember a season without irritation in her chest. For Dr. Kuanyshqar Assilov, who has watched the pattern deepen for years, the cause is unmistakable: decades of airborne salts, pesticide residues, and industrial chemicals lifted from the dried seabed of the Aral Sea. [caption id="attachment_39897" align="aligncenter" width="1378"] In Aralsk, sand covers everything[/caption] Marat Narbaev, executive director of the International Fund to Save the Aral Sea (IFAS), recounts the disaster’s origins with a mixture of resignation and habit. He traces it back to the 1960s, when Soviet planners diverted the Amu Darya and Syr Darya to feed cotton monocultures. “The cotton was used to make clothing for soldiers and ammunition,” he says. Today, he argues, the basin faces two pressures: “climate change and demographic growth. Fifty million inhabitants… soon seventy.” In this landscape, the promise of restoring the region through afforestation has acquired symbolic weight. Saxaul trees - hardy, grey-green, capable of surviving in brackish soils - are planted by the millions on the exposed seabed. Officially, they are meant to stabilize sand, calm storms, and cool the surface. Unofficially, they carry the hope that life here might once be breathable again. Survivalist tree? On paper, the saxaul is a biological survivalist: roots plunging more than 30 feet deep, the ability to stabilize dunes, lower surface salinity, and grow dense enough within a few years to slow the wind. In Aralkum, a village east of Aralsk, residents praise the planting that lines a dozen houses. “It really worked, the storms became more bearable,” a man says. Then he shrugs: more trees should have been planted. “We asked for the other side of the village, but there’s no funding left.” Nowadays, half of the trees have died, and the rest lie buried beneath the dunes. [caption id="attachment_39896" align="aligncenter" width="1378"] In Aralkum village, half of the surviving trees barely emerge from the sand[/caption] Sometimes, past plantations have almost zero trees left. According to a 2021...
