Participatory ethnobotany and conservation
A combination of participatory and ethnobotanical tools related to data collection is being used in current ethnobotanical research, including workshops, focus groups, and field trips. In the current context, ethnobotanical research takes into account the relationship between people and plants, including cultural beliefs and practices associated with various forms of use (food, dyes, fibers, poisons, fertilizers, building materials, ornaments, oils, rituals, and others) and the conservation of the natural environment in accordance with the knowledge, practices, beliefs, and priorities of indigenous and local communities [1, 2].
Several authors have employed a participatory approach to ethnobotanical research [3,4,5,6], where the involvement and active participation of local residents has been instrumental in the decision-making process, the advancement of innovative solutions in co-management projects, and the production, use, and management of plant resources. In the Brazilian scenario, this fact has become increasingly relevant due to the negative political context of the past few decades regarding the conservation of both plant and cultural diversity [7]. Therefore, profound changes are truly needed to recognize and support the participation of local communities in activities directly related to conservation under Aichi Goal 18 as well as to achieve the goals of the Global Plant Conservation Strategy, since Brazil is one of the signatory countries of the Convention on Biological Diversity [7].
The transformation of the ethnobotanical approach into the broader context of ethnobiology is notorious. In the past, several studies focused on the documentation of plants and their uses (by researchers/ethnobiologists), with informants seen as the object of research. Recently, studies have been changing the approach, seeking to tell the history of biodiversity and not only cataloging it; the local community participates in collaborative research [8,9,10]
The International Society of Ethnobiology also emphasizes the importance of collaborative and participatory research. In its Code of Ethics, the issue of participatory research is valued, thus supporting traditional communities in conducting research within their own society; undertaking their own research, recordings, databases, and more for their own use; and proposing recommendations, as active participation and reciprocity are to the mutual benefit of all parties [11].
As discussed by Stepp [12], participatory research is becoming increasingly common in the social sciences, and ethnobiologists have contributed to this approach. Several authors describe and demonstrate ways of developing approaches in ethnobotanical research, which may help us to better understand local environmental knowledge [13,14,15,16]. These authors also highlight the importance of empowering local community members as consultants and collaborators in the research process and note that the participation of these community members also increases the chance of success in putting the findings of the research into practice. Similarly, Ticktin et al. [17] and Etkin and Ticktin [18] reinforce the need for community members to actively participate in all phases of the research process, from study design to data interpretation. In recent decades, the importance of biocultural conservation, which employs participatory approaches, has received ever-increasing recognition, especially after the incorporation of the guidelines established in the Nagoya Protocol, which emphasizes that co-research (that actively involves local researchers in all stages of research and publication) that is carried out with the participation of the local communities and where the actors are not the object of study but take an active part in both researching and returning the information to the original owners, is more effective [16, 19, 20].
Common tools used in participatory ethnobotanical research include participatory mapping, considering community participation, and contributing to more adaptive landscape planning and conservation of forest and livelihood resources [4, 21]. Other authors have employed methods of participatory photography to portray changes in the local environment as well as adaptations to climate change through participant photography and accompanying explanations made by the local people [15, 16, 22]. However, there are few published studies in which research has involved local residents from the study design and data recording through the analysis. Hitziger et al. [23] provide one of the few examples of this, focusing on the development of a large-scale cooperative research project in ethnopharmacology. Their project was conducted in Guatemala among the Kaqchikel (highland) and Q’eqchi’ (lowland) Mayans. As ethnobotanical research shifts from the documentation of plant knowledge and uses to other areas [24], including applied research on resource management, these approaches are critical, and it is important to learn from both successes and challenges [17].
The Brazilian Atlantic Forest, a biodiversity hotspot [25] and one of the most endangered biomes in Brazil [26], originally extended for 3,300 km along the coast [27], where it has historically housed much of Brazil's human population. However, there has been heavy fragmentation caused by agriculture, livestock, firewood and urban sprawl [28], with only 8% of the original forest cover remaining [25]. There are still traditional communities that know about the use of plants such as the quilombolas (maroon communities). In this biome, the development of research that seeks the sustainable use of plant resources is a key priority for both human livelihood and the maintenance of forest biodiversity [29, 30].
This approach to participatory ethnobotany has been implemented with the support of local communities, including those who have resided in these areas, even before the creation of the integral protection area. This type of protected area has been implemented in Brazil in some areas since 2000 (Law No. 9,985 - National System of Conservation Units in Brazil/SNUC). The implementation of these protected areas causes various levels of conflict between the management of these areas and traditional populations that often have inhabited these localities since before the creation of the park, that is, there is conflict between conservation of the natural environment and the protection of the cultural rights of these human groups. To this end, the Brazilian government has adopted models of shared management between the federal government and traditional groups to reduce conflict. Thus, the present study aims to support actions and generate integrated knowledge based on sustainable management plans for better use of local plant resources.
We present a case study of a participatory approach whose aim is to record ethnobotanical knowledge on the use of plants in two quilombola communities (maroon communities) in an important biodiversity hotspot, the Atlantic Forest, in south-eastern Brazil, seeking tools to empower decision-making related to sustainable use and management among residents. First, we describe our research process and our project outcomes to date, and then we discuss some of the challenges involved. By specifically sharing the process here, as opposed to the outcomes produced by the project, we hope that others can learn from both our successes and our failures.
Location and context
The Atlantic Forest is one of the five main biomes in Brazil. It is considered one of the richest areas of fauna and flora in the world, with approximately 20,000 species of plants, of which approximately 8,000 are endemic. Part of the Atlantic Forest was recognized by UNESCO as a biosphere reserve in the early 1990s. It is vital to find alternatives for maintaining local communities, such as those of artisanal fishermen, quilombolas, and small farmers, that have lived for over 150 years in the Atlantic forest biome and have used the natural resources available for generations. Thus, one of the challenges is to perpetuate local knowledge and simultaneously promote income generation for the conservation of this biome.
However, some situations have led to a reduced conservation status of the Atlantic Forest, especially the alteration of the forest code in 2012 (due to the expansion of agribusiness policies in Brazil), which has resulted in the increased social and environmental vulnerability of local communities that depend on these environments and thus compromise the survival of traditional communities [31].
Our research focused on two quilombola communities (certified by the Fundação Cultural Palmares since 2005): the Quilombo da Fazenda (QF), which dates back to the end of the nineteenth century and today is composed of some 40 families (170 people) and overlaps with a protected area known as the Picinguaba Nucleus of the Serra do Mar State Park; and the Quilombo do Cambury (QC), which dates back over 150 years and today has approximately 50 families (230 people). The latter is located in the same park and Serra da Bocaina National Park, both located in Ubatuba Municipality, São Paulo State, Brazil, in the Atlantic Forest (Fig. 1).
Quilombolas are “remnants of quilombola communities” and are of African descent; we adopted the concept as it extends to maroon communities, including territory and identity linked to resistance, which are crucial elements in determining these remaining maroon groupings [32]. However, the term quilombolas is related to quilombo lands, which are ethnic-racial territories with collective occupation based on ancestry, kinship and cultural tradition, that express resistance to different forms of domination. Land regularization here is still guaranteed by the Federal Constitution of 1988 [33, 34]. Quilombolas were recognized by the National Policy for the Sustainable Development of Traditional Peoples and Communities, established by Decree 6040/2007. Some of them fled the farms where they were exploited and organized in communities, known as quilombos. They survived based on agriculture and the use of forest resources. This term is based on political, legal, sociological, anthropological and economic history, since it is associated with the period of colonization and slavery. In the context of history, it has been used in the legal arena to disqualify litigation by self-identified groups as quilombolas [35]. Over time, these communities have developed detailed local ecological knowledge and belief systems on the relationships of living beings [36]. The QF and QC communities are located in protected areas where there are multiple restrictions on land use, including the prohibition of resource extraction without authorization of the protected area manager. Currently, to construct houses, boats and handicraft, only dead or fallen trees may be used, pending permission of the parks. Inhabitants of the quilombos have pointed out the difficulty of rebuilding their homes, which degrade over time, and of using wood in general, due to park bureaucracy, as the park must grant them a permit to use wood.
This story is repeated in several areas of Brazil. The implementation of the National System of Conservation Units (SNUC) [37], specifically the implementation of protected areas, such as integral protection areas (ex. national parks), where only the indirect use of natural resources is allowed, created a process that is negligent regarding the extensive and diverse cultural heritage existing in the still representative strongholds, such as in the remnants of the Atlantic Forest biome, and neglects potential collaboration with local communities for the conservation and management of biological diversity [38,39,40]. This scenario has led to the abandonment of land cultivated by traditional farmers who migrate to periurban areas, leading to disorderly urban growth and the consequent irregular occupation and increase in underemployment and crime rates [41].
The largest environmental threat faced by the communities is pressure for the non-recognition of these areas as quilombola lands by the government, thereby allowing for the transformation of these areas into private property without considering conservation of the environment. If these areas are privatized, traditional populations will probably lose their land rights, and without land, they will not be able to carry out their traditional practices, as has happened along other areas of the coast of Brazil. The fishermen (caiçaras) from São Sebastião Municipality, São Paulo, for example, had to sell their houses since they could no longer pay the taxes demanded by the government. Tourists bought their homes, and the fishermen were turned homeless in their own land [42,43,44].