Toxic green; the trouble with golf.

• Author: Platt, Anne E.
• Position: Environmental effects of golf course developments

Ancient Hawaiians settled in Maunawili because of the proximity to good fishing grounds and because of the abundant water--artesian wells still flow upward at the foot of the mountain. Some of the farmers who now live in the village on the island of Oahu have worked the land for 50 years. Their homes of wood and corrugated metal are nestled amidst groves of trees and banana and ti (Asian shrub) plants. Surrounding these plants are new features on the landscape: two 18-hole golf courses and a clubhouse.

A long-term battle is being fought in this valley, pitting Japanese developers, who want to promote tourism for the island, against subsistence farmers, who are fighting to stop developers from turning their land into golf courses. The farmers have brought the issue to court, but with little legal claim to the land, they are at the mercy and will of a highly politicized legal system. Even if the farmers are relocated by the developers, there will be no compensation for the mature plants they have cultivated for years in the valley. As one farmer observed ruefully, "You can eat vegetables, but you can't eat golf balls."

Around the world, golf course developments are disrupting human and ecological communities in ways rarely contemplated in golfing magazines or clubhouse restaurants: they displace people, destroy habitats, pollute surrounding water and air with their heavy concentrations of fertilizers and pesticides, and deplete public water supplies.

And this damage isn't trivial. The sport is booming and golf course construction is the fastest growing type of land development in the world. Worldwide, there are about 25,000 golf courses that cover an area close to the size of Belgium.

While more than half of the world's 50 million golfers are American, Japan's 12 million golf enthusiasts are the biggest spenders in the game. The combined value of Japanese golf memberships exceeded 10 percent of Japan's gross domestic product in 1988. While a membership in a typical U.S. country club can cost up to $50,000 or more, Japanese golfers can pay as much as $250,000. In fact, it is so expensive to play in Japan that many golfers find it cheaper to jet abroad for golfing vacations.

Surprisingly, golf course development has exploded throughout Southeast Asia, a region that would seem to need many things more than it needs golf resorts. Thailand is now building about one golf course every 10 days, while the number of players in Indonesia and Malaysia is growing 20 to 30 percent each year. Singapore and China are draining paddies and wetlands to make room for the links, while the Vietnamese have donated a protected rainforest, Thu Duc Forest near Saigon, to a course developer from Taiwan. India's golf course development has touched most major ecosystems in the country: golf resorts have been built in the mountains and deserts, and along the coast and floodplains.

For many communities and countries trying to attract income, building golf courses may be a relatively easy way to promote tourism. But their social and environmental costs are often not accounted for in the development equation: Chee Yoke Ling of the Malaysia Global Anti-Golf Movement (GAG'M, pronounced gag'em) calls golf "tourism of the worst kind," the game's pristine, green landscapes genteelly camouflaging its real costs and side effects.

It is debatable whether the economic benefits of golf courses in the Third World are worth the potential environmental and natural resource costs, especially when many countries are facing more serious environmental problems, such as the lack of clean water, food, and arable land. As the golf courses are watered outside Harare, Zimbabwe, for example, people are literally dying of thirst less than 250 miles (400 kilometers) away in Bulawayo, says Pete Raine, director of the Kent Trust for Nature Conservation.

One of golf's lures is developers'...