At 2.2C Above 1940s Temps, Mongolia's Once-Rich Pastures Freezing, Drying Up, Blowing Away
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Temperatures in landlocked Mongolia have risen by 2.2C since 1940, far above the global average increase, while annual rainfall has fallen steeply, according to the UN. The shift has brought drier summers, followed by punishingly cold winters – a weather phenomenon unique to Mongolia and known locally as dzud. Not long ago, dzuds were declared once or twice a decade. “Nowadays it is almost yearly,” says Granzorig, as he lists recent hard winters: 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.
Less rain in summer means less grass on the steppe, making it difficult for the animals to fatten up for winter. When the rain does come, it can fall heavily and quickly, washing away topsoil. Hail storms, dust storms and other extreme weather events are also becoming more frequent. “Climate change is happening now,” says Bayan-Altai Luvsandorj, country head of Save the Children, which provides emergency help to herders. “Unless policymakers take immediate action, this nomadic way of life will die out and the country will be left without an identity.”
The effects are visible on the gently rolling plain where Ganzorig has pitched his ger: the sparse tufts of grass sprouting out of the sandy soil are short, dry and brittle. A couple of miles away, as her grandchildren herd her family’s goats into a pen for the night, Ganzorig’s neighbour Jamb Navgan recalls how different life was in her youth. “When I was a girl, my parents couldn’t find me in the grass, it was that tall,” the 68-year-old says. “We had many wildflowers and a lot of rain in the summer, but in the past 10 years we’ve had barely any grass at all.”
Like many herders, Jamb’s family have taken on debts to buy fodder. Last winter’s loan brought the total to 13m Mongolian tugriks, about £3,000. The family had hoped to pay it off by selling lambs and kids in the spring, but few of their malnourished animals reproduced. Now they are discussing taking out a new loan to pay off the old one. “It’s like a loop,” says Jamb. “What we produce is never enough to pay off the debts.” Having watched the hardships endured by their parents, few young Mongolians want to follow in their footsteps. At the secondary school in Sant, a nearby town, the pupils want to be teachers, police officers and doctors, not herders. “With the severe weather, it is too hard,” says 15-year-old Shirnentuya Enkhtur.
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https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2023/nov/15/dust-hail-and-bank-loans-the-mongolian-herders-facing-life-without-grass
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https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2023/nov/15/dust-hail-and-bank-loans-the-mongolian-herders-facing-life-without-grass