Phosphate mining ruined Nauru. Can it find its way again?

Imagine being one of the world’s richest countries – but amassing all of that wealth by exploiting a single resource that’s soon to run out.

That was the conundrum facing the Pacific island nation of Nauru in the 1970s.

Once the world’s top producer of phosphate, the country soon fell on hard times as its phosphate reserves were exhausted by the turn of the century, leaving a trail of environmental devastation and a landscape stripped bare by decades of mining.

Now, at the mercy of rising sea levels and with no other means to live off, Nauru is betting on deep sea mining, hosting asylum seekers on Australia’s behalf and selling citizenship to foreigners in a desperate bid to raise funds.

But how did Nauru get here – and could its struggles be a cautionary tale for humanity as a whole?

A brief history of phosphate mining in Nauru

Lush greenery, palm trees and white-sand beaches: that was the sight that greeted Nauru’s first European visitors, who named it ‘Pleasant Island’ when they stumbled upon it in 1798.

Located in the southwest Pacific Ocean and northeast of Australia, Nauru was so remote that it only saw a handful of European settlers until German colonizers arrived in the 1880s.

At just 21 square kilometers, Nauru is the world’s third-smallest country today, with few natural resources other than its once vast reserves of phosphate – a key ingredient in agricultural fertilizers.

In 1905, a British-owned company struck a deal with Germany to start mining these resources, and by the early 1920s, the island was exporting around 200,000 tonnes of phosphate a year at far below market prices to subsidize farmers in the Global North.

Following Germany’s defeat in World War I, Nauru became jointly administered by Australia, New Zealand and the U.K. under a League of Nations mandate.

This was followed by a brief but brutal Japanese occupation during World War II, until it was ‘returned’ to those three countries under a UN trusteeship administered by Australia, and phosphate mining resumed.

Upon independence in 1968, Nauruans finally took control of their own resources, which they continued to exploit – after all, phosphate was their sole source of income.

As phosphate prices soared in the 1970s, the young country enjoyed a per capita GDP of USD 50,000 by 1975, making it then the world’s second-richest country after Saudi Arabia.

But mining also left the once pleasant island had already turned into a barren ‘moonscape,’ with its soils heavily degraded and its population confined to a narrow ring of land along the rapidly eroding coast.

In 1989, Nauru sued Australia at the International Court of Justice for the damage caused by phosphate mining before its independence, eventually settling the case out of court in 1993.

By the early 2000s, the country’s phosphate reserves were virtually exhausted.

Paradise lost: Nauru today

Today, the country grapples with a multitude of challenges, including severe environmental and health crises, economic collapse and the loss of its cultural identity.

“Nauru and its neighboring small nations are caught in a persistent cycle of poverty and reliance on external support,” says Baiq Wardhani, a professor of international relations at Airlangga University in Surabaya, Indonesia.

In her research, Wardhani argues that colonialism robbed Nauruans of life’s pleasures as their lands were excessively mined for nearly a century.

“The environmental crisis in the colonies’ ecology is a consequence of colonialism,” she writes, pointing out that colonizers often benefit from the natural resources being extracted, while those colonized are exploited and left to bear the costs.

After nearly 60 years of independence, Nauru still remains heavily dependent on development aid, particularly from Australia, to survive.

This dependency can be considered a new form of colonialism as it enables rich donor countries to expand their influence over less affluent recipient countries.

“This dynamic not only disadvantages Nauru but also places pressure on nearby countries, [including] its former colonizer, which now shares responsibility for the region’s challenge,” Wardhani adds.

Gastrocolonization: How Nauru lost its cuisine

Nauruans were forced to make drastic changes to their lifestyle as phosphate mining damaged their environment. This was inevitable as their culture was once highly dependent on nature. 

After losing their traditional food sources based on seafood, root crops, vegetables and fruits, they turned to importing processed foods such as canned meats, instant noodles and soft drinks.

“Although Nauru is politically independent, it continues to experience colonial influence in new forms,” says Wardhani, adding that instead of overt control through force, modern colonialism operates subtly through foreign aid, trade systems and especially food.

“[The island] exemplifies gastrocolonialism – a type of cultural and symbolic domination that’s particularly insidious because it goes unnoticed by those affected.”

This shift towards high-calorie, low-nutrition diets has turned Nauru into one of the world’s most obese countries.

According to the Global Obesity Observatory, Nauru ranks second worldwide for obesity, with a rate of 69 percent. This has contributed to health conditions like hypertension and diabetes, which have limited the country’s life expectancy to 62 years.

Wardhani believes these widespread chronic illnesses are a “direct consequence of environmental degradation.”

The resource curse

Nauru’s descent from opulence to poverty and degradation is often cited as a prime example of the so-called resource curse – a phenomenon whereby countries rich in natural resources often fail to make the most of them.

After independence, Nauru’s elites squandered the country’s mineral wealth by spending it on things like sports cars and charter flights rather than investing it.

And when phosphate started running out, the Nauruan government gambled on some legally and financially questionable schemes to make money.

One notorious example was a musical about Leonardo da Vinci that flopped, losing the equivalent of AUD 7 million (USD 4.6 million) today.

Nauru also turned to offshore banking, becoming notorious for tax evasion and money laundering, and started selling citizenship to foreigners, including members of the Russian mafia and Al-Qaeda, before being forced to clean up its act due to U.S. sanctions in the 2000s.

Earlier this year, the country reopened its ‘golden passport’ program with stricter checks to raise funds to relocate its residents affected by rising sea levels.

“Nauru’s decision to sell citizenship highlights its deep economic distress,” says Wardhani.

“As a strategy to cope with severe poverty and address climate-related challenges, this offers short-term relief, but it’s not a sustainable path forward.”

Equally controversially, Nauru hosts a detention center for people seeking asylum in Australia, which has been widely condemned for its inhumane conditions.

In January, the UN Human Rights Committee ruled that Australia is responsible for its asylum seekers. It called on the country to pay compensation for violating their human rights and to review its policies to comply with its international obligations.

Separately, in August, Nauru agreed a AUD 408 million (USD 269 million) deal to accept hundreds of migrants without legal status in Australia who cannot be deported to their home countries.

And with its onshore resources depleted, Nauru is turning to mining the ocean floor for minerals, exploiting a U.S.-backed loophole that risks breaching international law and causing further damage to its ecosystems.

The tiny country now faces the risk of becoming a green sacrifice zone – paying the ecological price of the global green energy transition.

Can Nauru heal from its ecological trauma?

It may be hard to imagine Nauru returning to the paradise it once was, but some locals remain hopeful about returning to a path where the environment, community and economy thrive.

Nauru Restoration Generation is a project that aims to bring the island’s topside – where most of its phosphate was dug up – back to life through smarter land use and wildlife protection.

Its work includes conducting land use planning consultations in local communities, training farmers in sustainable land management practices, and involving citizens in tree planting.

Meanwhile, the Nauruan government is seeking funding from the Green Climate Fund to relocate vulnerable coastal communities inland due to rising sea levels.

The island’s history is a stark reminder of how fragile nature can be when pushed beyond its limits – and that its fate rests on the choices we make today. 

Quick solutions may offer temporary relief, but without proper long-term planning, they can instead cause lasting harm. 

“Nauru’s story reveals that genuine prosperity isn’t defined by financial wealth alone,” says Wardhani.

“It depends on the well-being of the environment, the unity of its people and the preservation of cultural identity.”