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Pollution Fears at Ossetian Factory

Zinc factory’s environmental record still causing fears despite moves to clean up its act.
By Viktor Buividas
It’s difficult to breathe, especially in bad weather,” said 20-year-old Alina. “It’s poison, like a gas attack!” added Galina, 42. “You can’t take your child out for a walk; you have to keep the doors and windows shut tight – it’s the only way to escape.”



Residents of Vladikavkaz, the capital of North Ossetia, say the air they breathe is badly polluted, and they blame a zinc plant in the city even though managers say huge improvements have been made and most of the eco-problems are a thing of the past.



The Elektrozinc plant plays a major role in the local economy, and with 3,500 people on its payroll, is the biggest employer in Vladikavkaz. When the plant was built in 1904, it was on the outskirts of the city, but it was swallowed up by urban sprawl and now stands in the middle of a residential area.



Ivan Alborov, professor of ecology at Vladikavkaz’s mining and metallurgy institute, told IWPR he believed the plant accounted for most of the industrial pollution in the city.



There seems to be general agreement that in past years, before the present management took over, Elektrozinc was a fairly dirty plant.



According to Alborov, when doctors tested hair samples from children at a nearby kindergarten eight years ago, they found ten times the permitted concentration of lead. That gives some indication, he says, of the lead many local people must now still be carrying inside them.



Biology professor Lidia Chopikashvili said that in the period from 1990 to 2000, between 40 and 45 out every 1,000 newborn babies in Vladikavkaz had some defect, and more than a quarter of pregnancies ended in miscarriages.



She too blames Elektrozinc, although she accepts that traffic pollution and other factors such as poor diet also contributed to these figures.



In 2003, a court ordered the zinc plant to close, following a lawsuit by government agencies and environmental groups. The company was then taken over by one of Russia’s largest companies, UMMC-Holding, and it was agreed that the new management would resolve all the environmental problems before 2007.



Sergei Golomzik, the plant’s deputy director, told IWPR that UMMC had done much more than it was required to, so that pollution had been cut by 90 per cent since the takeover.



“We have spent 156 million roubles [5.5 million US dollars] on dealing with environmental problems. This is an unprecedented move, especially as according to the agreement we only had to spend 90 million,” he said. “I’m not saying our factory doesn’t harm the environment - but we are making immense progress.”



Taimuraz Tsogoyev, spokesman for the North Ossetian government’s environmental protection committee, agreed that Elektrozinc’s record was far better than it used to be.



“In July 2005, there was an emission of sulphur anhydride from the sulphuric acid workshop and the company was fined around 30,000 roubles,” Tsogoyev told IWPR. “But I should say that there are no longer the large-scale accidents that there were in 2003.”



One gauge of this improvement, said Tsogoyev, was the fall in the number of complaints from local residents. “We get alerts by our phone hotline. People ring in from the streets nearby. In 2003, we were getting about 70 calls a day. Now it’s changed - in the last three months, there have only been three calls, I think.”



Some observers are less sanguine about the progress made to date. Natalya Merkulova, a Russian federal-level official responsible for consumer rights, told IWPR that untreated water was pouring into the nearby Sobachya Balka river and that the topsoil near the factory was heavily contaminated with lead.



“Elektrozinc is greatly damaging the health of Vladikavkaz’s population, even under the new UMMC management,” said Merkulova.



Golomzik denied all her allegations.



Alborov was sceptical of talk of improvement, saying, “Twenty-two months have gone by, and what do we have? Three million tonnes of clinker still lies within the factory’s grounds. It belches out smoke and dust and contaminates the environment with noxious substances. And the waste that is left over from re-smelting the scrap metal is very toxic.”



According to Alborov, dioxins had been found to be present in central Vladikavkaz.



But Golomzik denied that any dioxins were present on the factory’s premises. On Alborov’s claim that huge amounts of clinker were still lying around, he said substantial amounts of worked-out ore were now being re-processed at the plant, and half the total amount has now gone.



In theory, Russian law says there should be a kilometre-wide safety zone around a plant like Elektrozinc, and all residents and schools should be moved out of it.



That has never been the case, and according to Merkulova, acceptable levels of pollution are currently being exceeded two- or threefold times within a one-kilometre radius of the plant.



Golomzik argues that once harmful emissions of the factory have been substantially reduced, any barrier zone could be narrower than one kilometre. Critics like Alborov argue the reverse – that a kilometre is not enough.



In October last year, a large cloud of bright red-coloured dust issued from the factory. According to factory official Yevdokiya Irzhakovskaya, the cloud came from a breakage in a workshop, and the dust did not pose a serious threat to health.



Whether or not the current emission levels still pose any health risk, residents say the smell alone makes life unpleasant for them.



“I'm no longer young, so I go out onto the balcony to get some air, but very often I have to go back in and close everything up, even the ventilation window,” said Zhanna, a 62-year-old woman who lives just a few hundred metres from the factory. “The wind blows a strong chemical stink this way from the direction of Elektrozinc. It’s literally impossible to breathe!”



Alborov says he too suffers, “I have to cover my nose with a handkerchief when I go out onto the balcony or else I can’t breathe. And I don’t live near the factory, but right over on the other side of the river Terek.”



Viktor Buividas is a correspondent with the Puls Ossetii newspaper in Vladikavkaz. IWPR’s North Caucasus editor Valery Dzutsev contributed to this article.

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