In the eighties, Frans Vera and Fred Baerselman thought out the Dutch Ecological Infrastructure. Their idea was to have a set of large nature reserves, both existing and new, able to represent the gamut of potential natural landscape types in the Netherlands. The natural balance in these reserves would be >self-regulating= so that constant human intervention would be unnecessary. They would have clearly-defined boundaries and would be linked by green corridors. The network would be >as robust as the road infrastructure, something you establish after thorough planning and then no longer argue about=.1

This proposal laid unabashed claim to tens of thousands of hectares of land then still in use for agriculture. If necessary, the land would have to be acquired compulsorily as it would for road building, Vera and Baerselman decided. They had little sympathy for the farmers, and understandably so. In the countryside, nature conservationists had been losing out for decades to the bulwark of agricultural interests. Whatever remained of the natural environment had become increasingly fragmented. Now, at last, it seemed possible to take a stand on the issue. Agriculture had worked itself into a crisis for various reasons, while nature and the environment enjoyed broader public support than ever before. In the future only a few large farms would be viable, Vera and Baerselman believed, not the smaller-scaled structures of an >interlaced landscape=.
Moreover, people were beginning to think that the natural environment was not necessarily a lost cause in the Netherlands. There had been an unexpected spontaneous natural development in the Oostvaadersplassen, a neglected, still marshy area of the newly drained polder of South Flevoland. Flora and fauna had colonized it within a few years, producing something that barely anyone had thought possible: a new, vital site of natural interest that has since gained recognition at a European level. Before that, >Nature= in the Netherlands had the constitution and the charm of a dandy, of >a sensitive, fragile d_g_n_r_=, as the author Rob van Erkelens put it.2 It now became possible to think of nature as a new and vital entity: not as a dandy in extremis but as a fashionable, ruddy-cheeked bodybuilder. No longer just a distant memory, nature revealed itself as an ever-present power that automatically expresses itself whenever man loosens his grip a little. This had happened almost by accident in the Flevopolder, but when incorporated into the physical planning process, this Nature is capable of flexing her biceps elsewhere in the Netherlands.
Vera and Baerselman also drew on concepts in the science of ecology, e.g. in the island model promulgated by the Americans MacArthur, Wilson and Diamond in the sixties and seventies. This theory proposed creating separate nature reserves linked by >stepping stones=. The theory soon met resistance in academic circles but turned out to be of considerable strategic value. It offered a spatial model that combined the physical planning aspects of nature conservation with the prevalent thinking in terms of networks and infrastructure. The references to >virgin landscapes= and >wilderness= admittedly seemed to hark back to prehistoric times, but the Ecological Infrastructure was in its form a self-assured child of its no-nonsense times.

Dilution and controversy

The radical idea of the Ecological Infrastructure was described in the report Verkennende Studie Natuurontwikkeling (Exploratory Study of Nature Development) that Vera and Baerselman wrote as civil servants in 1999, in preparation for the government=s Natuurbeleidsplan (the NBP or Nature Policy Plan). Little of the radicalism of the original idea survived in the eventual NBP. This was largely due to an internal struggle in the Ministry of Agriculture, Nature Management and Fisheries between those who were interested in Agriculture and those who were interested in Nature Management. The concept was toned down to become what has since been known as the Ecological Main Structure (EHS). It was a compromise that reflects the balance of power that existed in the rural Netherlands at the time. The principle of interconnected nature reserves remained, but the EHS lacked the robustness and self-assurance of its predecessor, and left room for various forms of >agricultural nature management=. It also had a rather meagre budget, and it did not provide for compulsory land purchase.
In its subsequent execution, the EHS has drifted even farther from the original concept. Implementation is proceeding more slowly than intended and according to a different pattern. Detailing of the national network has been placed in the hands of the provinces, each of which emphasizes different aspects. The whole EHS pattern has moreover been distorted by the vagaries of land price. Where land prices are low, such as in the Province of Groningen, its implementation is running smoothly, but elsewhere it is behind schedule and the nature reserves are often smaller than intended. Regional characteristics also affect the pattern of implementation. Large-scale nature development is proving difficult to achieve in the small-scaled sandy landscapes of the eastern Netherlands, for example. Friesland has a nature conservation culture of its own that generates strong resistance to the top-down nature of the EHS plans. Realization of the hundreds of kilometres of green corridors is proceeding with difficulty, at least where these links run across dry land. The success stories of the EHS relate primarily to areas along the main rivers, since the rivers themselves provide ready-made links between the places where water meadows make way for alluvial forests.
The EHS has also become a subject of cultural controversy. Many people find the idea of a >makable= nature objectionable, among them the author Koos van Zomeren who has for years been writing nostalgic pieces depicting nature as an ailing patient. >I believe nature ought to draw something from the mythical depths of the ineffable,= he writes. This, in his view, is lacking in >new= nature areas: >Nature has become just one thing among others. I mean, nature has become ordinary.=3 Sometimes the objections are directed at the >Ur=-references that are thought to ignore the historic influence of human culture on the landscape. At the same time, the modern, large-scale character of the operation is also the butt of criticism. Van Zomeren fears that the >new nature= is serving as an excuse for continued squandering of the old. His fellow author Willem van Toorn deplores the decline of the man-made landscape of the great river lowlands of the central Netherlands due to dyke reinforcement and nature development in the flood plains. His standpoint is that plans imposed from above destroy the underpinning of personal experience and memory.
Following Geert Mak=s best-selling novel about changing rural culture, Hoe God verdween uit Jorwerd, a degree of >underdog hopping= is now evident. In the eyes of the urban cultural elite, nature was all well and good when it was weak, but now that it has fallen into the hands of government policymakers and well-funded private nature conservation agencies, the disadvantaged farmers become the objects of sympathy. Indeed, nature conservation groups such as Vereniging Natuurmonumenten themselves tend to spread this impression by acting less than delicately with their new-found clout at the negotiating table.
Questions have thus been raised about the cultural identity of the >new nature= that could barely have been formulated ten years ago. Whether intentionally or not, the EHS seems to act as a catalyst for debates about such dichotomies as nature and culture, town and country, past and present, rapid and slow transformations, and goal-directed planning and >planning for uncertainty=. Is it a regressive plan that tries to take us back to year zero, or does it represent today=s green, slow component of the urbanization process? Does it destroy the multitude of historic layers in the man-made landscape, or does it add a new layer that is explainable like all its predecessors in terms of social needs? Is it a change of function in the countryside or is it essentially an urban project? Does the authenticity of nature matter? There is a buzz of debate and confusion around such questions which often takes a pessimistic, moralizing tone. Issues at the boundary of nature and culture generally touch on deep-lying nerves.
Much of the confusion can be blamed on the leap of scale made by the EHS project. It deliberately commits larger areas than ever before to the operation of natural processes, allowing them to >run wild= as it were. Man is apparently meant to keep his hands off, but does that really happen? >The good thing about Dutch landscape is … the combination of forms derived from nature and unmistakably human components,= argues landscape architect Han L_rzing. >In the alluvial forests, the human component is gradually vanishing – and with it the tension that has always been so characteristic of the Dutch landscape.=4 In reality, however, the human component continues to exert a considerable influence, but more indirectly and at a different level. Nature in the Netherlands remains, according to philosopher Petran Kockelkoren, >subject to a culturally-imposed pattern=, even if the meshes of that pattern are now more widely spaced.

Equilibrium or dynamics

The science of ecology is changing too. It is a relatively young discipline, whose models and theories are proposed, challenged and refuted or modified at a fairly rapid rate. The eighties insights on which the EHS is based are, ten years on, no longer undisputed. The conception of the ecosystem as an interdependent community of species has stood the test of time. But the earlier assumption that an ecosystem will always tend towards stability and equilibrium has come under fire. A significant group of ecologists now regard ecosystems as essentially dynamic and subject to only temporary equilibria.
This dynamic view has far-reaching consequences for the objectivity of ecological criteria, argues the biologist Johan van Zoest. If metastability is the general rule, the present equilibrium cannot provide the objective standard for a healthy ecosystem. >This places the ascribing of ecological values firmly in the lap of society.=5
It also has consequences for the implementation of the EHS. The ideal equilibrium is often presented as point of reference or as something to strive for: you make a plan, and you know what the outcome will be, as in architecture. It sets the standard for nature management too. You can mow, weed or graze a reserve in order to maintain a specific ecological balance. But if the natural tendency is dynamism, the point of reference is no more than just one of countless snapshots on the way to an unpredictable future. Therefore design efforts should not be directed towards achieving a target situation, but at creating a set of starting conditions from which nature will go its own way.
The ecologist Bert Harms gives an interesting twist to this dilemma by placing it in a cultural context. Equilibrium-thinking >is closely related to the traditional agricultural attitude to the countryside; after all, the farmer wishes to be as certain as possible about the results of his labours=. However, the idea of nature as something dynamic, unpredictable and chaotic >better suits the needs of the town dweller= who seeks >surprise, tension, variety and inspiration= in nature.6
Quite apart from this, the question has been raised whether ecological models really have to be completely >neutral=, i.e. whether they are not necessarily founded on prior social and cultural assumptions. This question is all the more pressing because the very existence of the EHS forces Dutch ecologists to teeter between the fundamental uncertainty of scientific research and the administrative, strategic urge to supply applicable, >definite= knowledge. Their position resembles that of the economists who are called on to substantiate the need for a new goods railway such as the Betuwe Line.
Examples of the >ecological criteria= posed for landscape quality over the years include diversity, rarity, threatened status, vulnerability, prospects for development, characteristicness, replaceability, completeness, authenticity, aesthetic value, surface area, antiquity, uniqueness and naturalness. Van Zoest, who listed these proposed criteria, notes that >checklists of this kind largely reflect the anarchy and opportunism prevalent in ecological evaluation rather than constitute a simple system of values.= He adds, >Nature is a fuzzy category=.7
>The policy towards nature of the NBP is driven by subjective political decisions=, the ecologist Jacques de Smidt wrote.8 The EHS is not primarily a matter of ecology but a political and cultural project. Van Zoest identifies an intriguing consequence of this. His study deals with the three categories of landscape value defined in the Nota Landschap (the Landscape Memorandum, the Nature Policy Plan=s kid sister): aesthetic, ecological and economic values. The Memorandum places >natural values= under the ecological category, but in Van Zoest=s view they could just as reasonably be classed as aesthetic values.9

Renewed cooperation

All these developments point broadly in the same direction. The sovereign ecological structure of the original concept has increasingly turned into a human construct at all levels, at least in practice. Since 1990, according to the Countryside Council that advises the government, nature has been >socialized=.10
If one takes the original concept as a yardstick, the EHS appears to be faring rather poorly. Substantial areas of wilderness prove unachievable under the present approach. Nearly all the completed or prepared nature development projects have been fairly small, and have often turned out smaller than initially intended. They do include the occasional pearl, and together they amount to an interesting catalogue of ecological and design outlooks. But on the whole the pearls are strung on an insecure thread; while it is specifically the thread, i.e. the network, that is crucial to the EHS concept.
A generously-endowed spatial plan for nature seems beyond the bounds of possibility as long as the grounds are solely that >our obligation towards nature=. Altruism and guilt are apparently neither strong nor reliable enough as motives. But once it is realized that an ecological structure is invariably a human structure too, certainly in the Netherlands, new avenues open. We can then strive for combinations of natural objectives and other spatial needs, to the advantage of both.
A renewed liaison with the agricultural sector becomes possible. It is mainly the farmers themselves who are angling for this. They are trying harder than ever to take on the visible role of traditional, reliable producers of natural products. Even if this proves to be more than a passing phase, it may result in interesting patches of >farmer=s nature= but it will not result in the large areas intended by the nature policy. To make that possible, liaisons will be needed at a higher level such as regional water management and the urbanization process. >Water is our greatest capital and our greatest potential= argue marine ecologist Ben ten Brink and freshwater ecologist Harry Hosper. Practically all Dutch natural areas of any international standing bear some relation to water. Water tends by its nature to form a connected system; water systems recover quickly, are open to multiple use and are subject to relatively simple ownership relations. Achieving an ecological structure based on a watery skeleton of existing of lakes, rivers and other waterways is a piece of cake in the Netherlands. >AWet nature@ is the main strength of the EHS, and Adry nature@ can profit by concurring with it. In other words, Ajoin the winner@ =.11
The water-related EHS plans are already unfolding with particular speed. Further opportunities emerge from changing ideas in hydrological management, in which >softer= forms of coastal and river defence and water-buffering schemes could alleviate river flooding and also meet irrigation and drinking water shortages during dryer periods. In this approach, nature is not treated as an isolated, costly form of land use, but as a useful instrument and at the same time a free side-benefit.
The relation of nature to the city can also be explored much more deeply than previously. The widespread appreciation of nature demonstrated by popular enthusiasm for nature conservancy is historically related to urban culture and its moral, aesthetic and recreational needs. The EHS concept can similarly be thought of as urban in its scale and its brusqueness, besides being an illegitimate offspring of >parkways= and of plans for natural areas of the kind that were already being devised in planning circles in the twenties and thirties. Ecological science is taking on urban traits, as Harms has suggested, and Van Zoest=s list of ecological criteria mentioned above can serve almost unchanged (just replace >naturalness= by >urbanity=) as a description of the fuzzy concept of >urban quality=. Biologists moreover agree that urban areas are not simply biologically blank but host a wealth of biotopes and species.
The EHS is an urban project, and is as paradoxical and complex as urban culture itself. So far there has not been much success in relating the EHS spatially to the urban structure. This is not solely due to the weighty factor of land price. The Dutch custom of placing >red= and >green= areas back to back also plays a part. The green area often acts here as a buffer for the necessary evil of urbanization. Once people stop feeling ashamed about the city, it will become possible to weave the city and nature together in a more free-handed way. Areas of green and of water can function as robust structuring elements in urban planning, following for example the >inversion planning= concept of Leo Tummers and Janny Tummers-Zuurmond, and they present opportunities for a wide variety of park and ecological systems.
If we couple urban functions to water and even to agriculture, if we combine their issues and their potentials, their usefulness and their necessity, and if we study how natural the solutions could be, it would allow an entirely different ecological structure to arise, perhaps one that is more comprehensive and is certainly just as solid as the EHS. Who knows, perhaps a Koos van Zomeren of a later generation will discover >mythical depths of the ineffable= in that productive green landscape.