CLEWISTON, Fla. — First Carl Hiaasen skewered greedy sugar barons in such novels as "Strip Tease." Then Marge led a campaign against the villainous Mother-Loving Sugar Corp. on "The Simpsons." But now Big Sugar is in really big trouble on the pop culture front. On a recent episode of "The West Wing," President Bartlett's political aides floated a $7.8 billion plan to save the Everglades. And if that sounds vaguely familiar, there's a twist: The money would come from "the same place the pollution does -- the sugar industry!" Big Sugar -- like Big Tobacco and Big Oil -- has a lousy image. It didn't get that image entirely by accident. But environmentalists have exploited the common caricature of Big Sugar -- diabolical tycoons who buy politicians and ravage the Everglades to fatten their wallets -- to distort an important debate over the sugar industry's future in South Florida. Even Dexter Lehtinen, who sued Big Sugar over Everglades pollution in 1988 when he was U.S. attorney in Miami, says the situation is much more complex than it looks on TV. "The constant focus on sugar is a self-serving delusion," said Lehtinen, who is now the Miccosukee Indian tribe's attorney. "People want to say: We're good guys, Big Sugar is the bad guy. It's not that simple." In the real world, sugar fields do pollute the Everglades, but they're not the sole source or even the main source of the ecosystem's decline. In fact, the sugar industry has dramatically reduced its impact on the Glades, and although Lehtinen's landmark lawsuit forced the industry's hand, sugar-cane farming is one of the least damaging possible uses of its land. Big Sugar has become a scapegoat for the problems of the River of Grass -- not a sympathetic scapegoat, perhaps, but a scapegoat nonetheless. "We don't have horns and a tail," said Robert Coker, a vice president for U.S. Sugar Corp. here in America's Sweetest Town. "There's this evil myth of Big Sugar. We want people to know the facts." Some of the facts resemble the caricature. There are 450,000 acres of sugar fields in the Everglades Agricultural Area below Lake Okeechobee, blocking the natural water flow of the Everglades. There is a federal program that props up domestic sugar prices, costing American consumers $800 million to $1.9 billion a year, according to the General Accounting Office. The federal government buys back sugar the industry can't sell, costing taxpayers hundreds of millions of dollars more. The industry also uses hundreds of billions of gallons of South Florida's water but pays minimal water taxes. These and other perks are the direct result of Big Sugar's extraordinary political clout, most famously illustrated in the Starr Report when President Bill Clinton interrupted his breakup with Monica Lewinsky to take a 22-minute phone call from Alfonso Fanjul Jr., chief executive of Florida Crystals Corp. The industry donates millions of dollars to state and federal politicians, and almost invariably gets its way in public policy disputes. "I saw firsthand how Big Sugar bought the Florida Legislature," said Barry Silver, a former Democratic assemblyman from Boca Raton. The industry gets its way in water disputes, too. During the drought of 2000, it persuaded the South Florida Water Management District to revise its guidelines to siphon water from an already parched Lake Okeechobee for irrigation. To environmental groups like Save Our Everglades, the biggest problem with Big Sugar is the phosphorous it pumps south to the River of Grass and backpumps north to Lake Okeechobee. The Everglades is a phosphorous-intolerant ecosystem, and phosphorous-rich sugar runoff has transformed some of its sawgrass plains into dense clumps of cattails. That's why Lehtinen filed his lawsuit. But the suit led to the Everglades Forever Act, which required the state to build the world's largest artificial marshes to filter nutrients out of runoff entering the Everglades, and the sugar industry to reduce its annual phosphorous output 25 percent. Over the last six years, Big Sugar has far exceeded those mandates, reducing its output 56 percent by retaining more water on its land, cleaning its ditches more often and using less fertilizer. Last year, sugar runoff averaged 64 parts per billion (ppb) of phosphorous, and dipped below 30 ppb after leaving the marshes. That's still higher than the almost imperceptible 10 ppb the Everglades needs to recover, but it isn't the green slime or oozing sewage that most people think of when they hear "pollution." Miami's tap water registers more than 400 ppb. "We weren't winning environmental medals for a long time. No one was," said U.S. Sugar executive Malcolm "Bubba" Wade, who served on the commission that developed the nonfiction $7.8 billion Comprehensive Everglades Restoration Plan. "But you can't make us the villain anymore." Many environmentalists contend that while Big Sugar may be doing its part, it's not paying its share; it's paying only one-third of the $800 million marsh project. In 1996, the industry spent $30 million to fight off a penny-a-pound sugar tax, but voters approved a "Polluter Pays" constitutional amendment declaring farmers "primarily responsible" for cleanup costs. However, the Legislature never translated the amendment into law, and the state Supreme Court recently upheld the status quo. "Innocent taxpayers are paying to clean up Big Sugar's mess," said Save Our Everglades President Mary Barley. But it's not just Big Sugar's mess. The state has urged -- but not forced -- cattle ranchers above Lake Okeechobee to reduce runoff to 1,200 ppb of phosphorous, but only half their pastures meet the target. Runoff from one ranch recently tallied 9,000 ppb. Yet no one complains about Big Cattle. Environmentalists howl when sugar farms backpump excess water to the lake, but sugar runoff is often the cleanest water entering the lake that doesn't come straight from the sky. No one complains about Big People, either. But runoff from development is far dirtier than runoff from sugar fields -- and millions of people now live in the original Everglades. "I tell people: Look in the mirror. You're the problem," said state Sen. Lee Constantine, a Republican who works in real estate. "No one ever listens." Environmentalists and sugar barons do agree on one thing: The worst thing that could happen to the Everglades would be the suburbanization of the sugar fields. Route 27 into Clewiston is now a four-lane highway, and sugar executives have warned that if their land can't grow sugar, it will grow golf courses and condos. It's only a half-hour drive from Fort Lauderdale or West Palm Beach. "It's a very realistic threat to South Florida," Wade said. So there are decisions to be made. Vice President Al Gore once pledged to take at least 100,000 acres of sugar fields out of production, and many Florida activists want to buy out all sugar farms in the state. They say buying sugar land serves a quadruple purpose: more water storage and a more natural flow, less water demand and less water pollution. Nathaniel Reed, a former Nixon administration official who is a key environmental leader here, used his keynote speech at this year's Everglades Coalition meeting to denounce the industry for everything from low pay to cavities. "The insatiable demands of the sugar barons can't be met without sacrificing Everglades restoration," Reed said. For now, though, the Everglades restoration plan will take only 60,000 acres of sugar fields out of production. The industry has invested heavily in mills and refineries, and it wants to grow as much sugar as possible. Former Interior secretary Bruce Babbitt, who was pilloried by environmentalists for cutting deals with the industry, says policymakers must negotiate with sugar executives in good faith. Calling them names and twisting facts, he said, will not help the Everglades. "I think, inevitably, more sugar land is going to have to go," Babbitt said. "But that's not a statement that anyone is evil." Articles from "The Swamp" series:
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