We are not going to South America to make money
But to help develop that wonderful and fertile land
After a year, Henry Wickham had amassed 70,000 seeds under false pretenses. The level of heroism surrounding his deeds were greatly exaggerated by the mustachioed explorer, in hopes of bolstering his own reputation. Still, it was plant theft on a scale unmatched in the era, each seed declared an “academic specimen” to circumvent Brazilian export restrictions.
The act earned Wickham knighthood "for services in connection with the rubber plantation industry in the Far East.” It also singlehandedly broke Brazil’s stranglehold on the rubber industry, as the only area in the world where hevea brasiliensis natively grows. Four-percent of the smuggled seeds germinated, the vast majority of which were sent to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka).
It wasn’t long before South Asian rubber production eclipsed that of the Amazon. Though to Henry Ford, Sri Lankan rubber was of little more use than the Brazilian variety. The U.K. had a monopoly on the stuff. In 1927, the automotive magnate grew determined to set up his own supply – while implementing some broader sociological notions he had toyed with over the previous decades.
Ford’s past efforts to carve out his own capitalist utopia had universally fallen short. Perhaps most notable was Muscle Shoals. Conceived of in the early-20s, the project sought to take ownership over the Wilson Dam, a 4,500 foot barrier built along the Tennessee River in the waning days of the first World War. Ford lobbied to become the private sector financial sponsor that would get the structure across the finish line.
Visiting the site in 1922 with friend Thomas Edison, the businessman promised, “I will employ one million workers at Muscle Shoals, and I will build a city 75 miles long.” When both Congress and the public balked at Ford’s plan to assert private control over public resources, the automaker reflexively blamed the “International Jews.” It was a phrase he would also adopt for a four-volume series of antisemitic booklets that would prove a profound influence on Germany’s nascent National Socialist party.
Having run afoul the U.S. government with multiple planned communities, Ford set his sights on the birthplace of rubber. Plans for a 1927 Brazilian tour with Charles Lindbergh were aborted, but Ford’s interest only continued to grow. By August of the following year, two ships set arrived in Brazil to set establish the beginnings of Fordlandia. Constructed along the Tapajos River, Ford estimated that the combination utopian city and plantation would cultivate enough rubber to supply tires for 2,000,000 a year.
But the automaker believed his true export would be cultural. “We are not going to South America to make money,” he told the press, “but to help develop that wonderful and fertile land.”
After purchasing 5,625 square miles of land for $125,000, Fordlandia got off to a less than auspicious start. Food for the workers rotted, leading to revolts and cargo was delayed until the following year, with constructional finally beginning in earnest in 1929. Plans were still rather grandiose, and the builders managed to deliver on much of the promise, including a thoroughly modern hospital and luxuries like swimming pools, tennis courts and a golf course.
Problems emerged almost immediately.
Trees were planted by factory supervisors, rather than agricultural specials, resulting in failed crops. Ford’s instance on transplanting midwestern cultural to the Amazon was a recipe for a cultural clash, from gastrointestinal distress to fights over working hours. Turnover was high and multiple riots broke out. In one instance, management escaped the city on a ship and later employed Brazilian military forces to subdue unrest.
Fordlandia was abandoned in 1934. The project was relocated 25 miles south in hopes of finding superior growing conditions, but by the following decade, the arrival of synthetic rubber rendered much of the operation moot. In 1945, Ford’s grandson sold both towns back to the Brazilian government, netting the company a $20 million loss.
For the remainder of the 20th century, the failed utopia rotted away. It stood as a testament to an abandoned dream, and a home to fewer than 100 inhabitants. At the outset of the following century, the population has rebounded to around 3,000. The hospital is several decades out of commission, both it and the golf course having long ago succumbed the Brazilian rainforest. Local cattle farmers now occupy the rows of American-style homes.
Sources:
Fordlandia – the failure of Henry Ford's utopian city in the Amazon https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2016/aug/19/lost-cities-10-fordlandia-failure-henry-ford-amazon
Ford Rubber Plantations in Brazil https://www.thehenryford.org/collections-and-research/digital-resources/popular-topics/brazilian-rubber-plantations/
Henry Ford’s Muscle Shoals https://urbanutopias.net/2019/02/01/henry-ford-muscle-shoals/