The animals die in a specific order. First the goats, which are small and produce heat poorly. Then the sheep, which are heavier but starve faster once the grass is locked under ice. Then the cattle, then the horses. The camels sometimes survive. The herder watches this happen over weeks, in temperatures that hold at –40°C, on a landscape that has become a white slab from which nothing edible can be extracted.
A Disaster Accelerating
Dzud was once a once-in-a-decade event. Today, Mongolia faces 6 dzuds within 10 years. Recovery time has collapsed, pastures no longer regenerate, and herds fail to rebuild. Families that lost livestock in 2017 were hit again in 2022 and again in 2023–2024, each time starting from a weaker position. The most recent dzud was the worst in 50 years, wiping out over 7.4 million livestock, roughly 10% of the national herd, and causing up to $1.9 billion in damages across just 5 provinces.
The Arithmetic of Catastrophe
Each dzud compounds the previous one, steadily eroding livestock numbers, degrading pasture, and weakening resilience. In an economy of roughly $20 billion, recurring billion-dollar losses are no longer exceptional shocks but a structural burden, disproportionately carried by rural households.
Beyond Survival... Mongolians have survived dzud for centuries through mobility and deep environmental knowledge. But today’s dzud is more frequent, more intense, and less forgiving. Survival alone is no longer enough, the challenge now is to anticipate, adapt, and ultimately outsmart it.
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