The Maldives is facing an existential crisis: In just one century, the majority of this archipelago of 1,192 tropical islands, ever popular with honeymooners and lovers of barefoot luxury, will be consumed by the sea.
Warning lights are already flashing. Known for its floury white sands and pristine blue lagoons, more than 80 percent of the Indian Ocean nation lies less than a meter above current sea level. Add to this the fact that valuable sources of fresh drinking water are being disrupted by incoming tides (meaning most of the 187 inhabited islands depend on expensive and often variable desalination plants) and things start to look hopeless.
Of course, in desperate times comes desperate measures. In 2008, former president Mohamed Nasheed warned that the country “must look for alternative places for Maldivians to live”; This has the potential to go the same way as Tuvalu, a similarly low-lying country in the South Pacific that recently reached an agreement in the South Pacific. Australia will rehome some of its citizens.
But now there seems to have been a change of direction: the Maldives has decided to fight back and, in the defiant words of its new leader, president Mohamed Muizzu, become “self-sufficient”.
On the one hand, this took the form of sustainability practices, especially from hotels in the Maldives. Four Seasons Landaa Giraavaru, for example, now has one of the largest solar installations in the country; large enough to save 300,000 liters of diesel a year and avoid 800 tonnes of carbon dioxide emissions, the equivalent of more than 500 flights between London and Malé.
Another five-star resort, Fairmont Maldives Sirru Fen Fushi, now uses generator heat to produce the island’s hot water, and Kudadoo Maldives Private Island recently became the first resort to run entirely on solar energy, thanks to nearly 1,000 solar panels covering its roof. Many hotels are also trying to reduce their food hauls by developing island-grown alternatives. For example, Amilla has her own mushroom lodge, coconut processing facilities, banana plantation and hydroponic garden.
But with almost all hotels in the Maldives now claimed to be sustainable and the country’s tourism industry still reliant on long-haul flights, it’s clear that green credentials alone won’t be enough.
So the Maldives brought out the big guns a few years ago, inspired by the densely populated capital Malé, home to more than 130,000 people per square mile, surrounded by fortress-like walls. Since the Maldives are coral islands, it was built using concrete blocks and rubble, mostly imported from Indonesia, and is just over 3 meters at its highest point. And they’ve already proven their worth: When the Indian Ocean tsunami hit in 2004, the wave was roughly 2 ft below the top of the barriers. Various other islands, including Mahibadhoo, have now benefited from similar structures, much to the disapproval of tourists disgruntled by the occasionally interrupted views.
And these new measures don’t stop with concrete barriers: entirely new islands have been created by pumping sand onto underwater coral platforms. One such island, Hulhumalé in Kaafu Atoll, is a 1.5-square-mile artificial landmass currently home to more than 50,000 residents, but it is hoped that 240,000 people could live there within a few years. Unlike the overcrowded capital, the streets here are designed to optimize wind penetration and reduce the need for air conditioning. Schools, parks and mosques were also built within 600 ft walking distance of housing projects to help reduce vehicle use.
And the future looks set to see even more extreme solutions, with the construction of the Maldives Floating City, the first of its kind on Earth: an area of more than 500 acres that will support 5,000 low-rise homes and make room for 20,000 people. . Criss-crossed by canals and white sandy roads, it will be a car-free neighbourhood, with only bicycles, electric cars and scooters allowed. As an added incentive, tourists who buy a home here will be allowed to apply for a Maldives Residence Permit.
But the situation is changing rapidly, and it won’t be long before every pristine atoll is forced to surround itself with fortress-like concrete, or footprints in shallow waters will be replaced by floating platforms. And when they do, will tourists around the world abandon this ancient paradise and move on to the next natural nirvana? Only time will tell.