The Eastern Tropics are the chief seat of rubber-growing, and the countries in which the principal plantations are situated are British Malaya (Federated Malay States and Straits Settlements), Ceylon, Java, Sumatra, and Borneo. Plantations have also been established in Brazil, Central America, Mexico, the West Indies, British Guiana, and West Africa. The bulk of the cultivated trees are of the Hevea brasiliensis variety, yielding what is known as Para rubber.

At present the only plantation rubber which wild rubber has to fear is the Para that comes from the Eastern plantations. You remember how recently the first rubber plantations were established in the East. Here are a few facts which will give you a rough idea of the enormous developments that have been brought about in a few years.

In the Malay Peninsula, upwards of 1,000,000 acres of land are planted up with Hevea. Malaya has become the biggest rubber-producing country in the world, its output having increased from 130 tons in 1905 to 140,000 tons in 1918, and being still on the up grade.

Among British rubber-producing countries, Ceylon holds second place of honour for quantity of output, the quality of which is equal to that of the Malaya product. Ceylon’s total output of raw rubber was nearly 13,000 tons for the period January to March, 1919, or about one-quarter of the total output of Malaya for the same period.

Among the world’s rubber-producing countries, Brazil now comes second on the list for quantity of output; but as regards quality, the best Brazilian rubber still commands a slightly higher price than the best grade plantation competitor.

In connection with the quantity test for order of precedence, it is interesting to note that the Dutch East Indies, notably Java and Sumatra, are running Brazil close for second place in the world’s list of rubber producers; further, the quality of Dutch East Indian plantation rubber is very good, so Brazil must look to her laurels if she is to avoid being beaten by yet another competitor besides the all-conquering Malaya.

To get a wide appreciation of the revolution that has taken place, we must glance at a few more figures: In 1900, the world’s total production of rubber was 53,890 tons, to which the Amazon Valley forests contributed 26,750 tons, the rest of the world’s forests 27,136 tons, and the plantations the insignificant amount of 4 tons. By 1913 (the last year of normal pre-war conditions), the world’s total production had risen to 108,440 tons, to which the Amazon Valley forests contributed 39,370 tons, other forests 21,452 tons, and the plantations the then astounding amount of 47,618 tons; note that in the short period of thirteen years the total from the plantations had grown bigger than that from the Amazon Valley, and nearly as big as the sum total of wild rubber from all sources of supply. By 1918, the world’s rubber output had leapt up to 241,579 tons, to which Brazil contributed 30,700 tons, and the rest of the world’s forests 9,929 tons, against 200,950 tons from the plantations—over 140,000 tons of the plantation supply came from Malaya. The estimated output for 1919 is 382,000 tons, of which it is calculated that 339,000 tons will come from the plantations; the extent of Malaya’s contribution to the plantation total may be judged from the fact that her output for the first six months of that year already totalled upwards of 128,000 tons.

You find these figures dull? Look at them again for a minute, then pause and give your imagination rein. In 1900 a mere patch of the British Empire is planted up experimentally with rubber trees, raised from seed originally brought from the Amazon Valley under adventure-story conditions; the total output is a mere 4 tons of rubber. In 1918, much less than a quarter of a century later, rubber plantations are occupying nearly three million acres of land, mostly within our Empire, whilst the annual yield is up to 241,579 tons, and is still rapidly increasing.

Does not the romance behind these figures begin to grip you? Never in the whole world’s commercial history has so great a triumph been achieved in so short a time and in the face of such difficulties as the development of the plantation rubber industry. Here, indeed, is a triumph that should make you proud of your countrymen, for the motive power behind that development was British; for years the British pioneers who paved the way to success were derided for their faith in the new enterprise, and they almost had to pawn their shirts to meet expenses whilst they were bringing the first plantations to bearing stage. To those pioneers we owe Britain’s control of the rubber industry, a weapon which went far towards helping the Allies win the war against rubber-starved Germany.

You know, of course, some of the ways in which rubber was of priceless value for the manufacture of munitions of war—tyres for motor lorries, motor cars, and motor ambulances; aeroplane parts, waterproof boots, ground sheets and macintoshes for the fighting men, surgical appliances for the wounded. And despite the big demand for raw rubber, the supplies on which we could draw were so abundant that the price of the material fell, instead of soaring up and up, as was the case with practically every other raw product under war conditions.

We have seen how the plantation rubber industry was developed through a sound belief that the world’s demand for rubber would exceed forest supplies. So great has been the development, that to-day some people are prophesying all manner of catastrophes on the ground that the supply will soon be exceeding the demand. On the other hand, there are the optimists, who are well in the majority; they have their reasons for looking on the bright side, and from what we know of the rubber industry we find ourselves strongly in sympathy with their arguments. They believe that under the renewal of peace conditions the world’s demand for rubber will increase by even bigger proportions than it did under war conditions. They admit that the call on rubber for active service was only a temporary stimulus to the industry, but point out that this artificial spur checked the natural growth of the industry by interrupting the adoption of rubber in civil life. Before the war, rubber was gaining ground with striking rapidity as the popular material for a wide variety of necessities and luxuries; now that the war is over, rubber has an opportunity of continuing its civil career with phenomenal success, serving as an indispensable material for reconstruction activities and for the business and pleasure facilities of a progressive civilization. Motor traffic is bound to increase, particularly in our less-developed and enterprising colonies, where the making of roads suitable for motor transport is recognized as a primary essential to the development of natural wealth, such as agricultural possibilities and mineral deposits; up will go the demand for tyres, and this is but one of the many ways in which already known uses for rubber should make a bigger draw on the output of the raw material. It is well within the bounds of possibilities that uses which have already successfully passed the experimental stage may pass into the sphere of practical life—for instance, rubber roadways and rubber tennis-courts. And it is more than likely that many new uses for rubber will be discovered.

Certainly, the outlook reveals chances of catastrophes—the price of raw rubber has fallen perilously near to the lowest margin at which Brazil can compete with the plantation product, but Brazil is making some strenuous efforts to reduce the cost price of obtaining forest supplies; on the other hand, disease is threatening the trees on the Eastern plantations, but it has been scientifically treated from the outset of its appearance, and no trouble and expense are being spared to combat it. Still, whilst we do not shut our eyes to the possibilities of disaster, we seem to see bright prospects predominating, and to such an extent that we should not be surprised to find ourselves, at no very distant date, experiencing another though milder Rubber Boom.