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Reflecting on our first year at COP

floating globe installation in the side events hall at COP30

COP30 marked Earth Refuge’s first time attending the Conference of the Parties – and what a place to begin: Belém, in the heart of the Brazilian Amazon. We arrived curious, cautious, and keen to listen. Our goal was simple but ambitious: bring the perspective of UK civil society into global conversations on climate and migrant justice, and elevate the voices and experiences of communities already responding to climate (im)mobility. 

More than 100 civil society organisations signed our Open Letter – drafted under the banner of the Climate and Migrant Justice Organising (CMJ) Policy Working Group – to UK government representatives and COP negotiators, urging them to safeguard both the right to stay and the right to move in the face of escalating climate impacts.  

With this mandate, we set out to raise the profile of climate mobility in rooms where the conversation often remains tightly focused on emissions and temperature pathways. We also went to learn; from communities, organisations, scholars, and activists working at the intersection of climate and migration across the world. 

two colleagues posing by the Climate Mobility Pavilion sign at COP30

Expanding Legal Protections for Climate-Displaced Populations 

At an event facilitated by our colleagues at RESAMA (Rede Sul-Americana para as Migrações Ambientais / South American Network for Environmental Migration) and hosted off-site at the Instituto Hounsou de Integração África-Amazônia, we witnessed first-hand the extraordinary work led by founder Israel, originally from Benin. Only a few years ago, the state of Pará had almost no infrastructure in place to support new arrivals; today it is recognised as Brazil’s most welcoming state for migrants. A progressive national migration law – easing processes such as marriage registration and access to essential rights – has made a material difference. 

We were struck by Marilia Papaléo Gagliardi’s overview of RéSAMA’s Latin American network, which has mapped climate-related displacement cases across the region. The parallels with our own Climate Mobility Case Database were clear, and we are excited about what future collaboration could bring. 

We also heard from Gabriela Nagle Alverio of the Beyond Climate Collaborative, who highlighted how FEMA funding patterns in the United States can influence who is able to rebuild after disasters – revealing stark racialised inequities in who stays, who moves, and who is forced into precarity. 

Climate displacement solutions: bridging research and lived experiences 

This session, which we co-hosted with the Beyond Climate Collaborative and the Yale Student Environmental Coalition, was built as a sharing circle – intimate, reflective, and deeply grounding. Bella Mosselmans of the Global Strategic Litigation Council emphasised strategic litigation as one tool among many, alongside activism and storytelling. Her intervention underscored the power of communities driving legal action themselves, and echoed what we see globally: different places, but similar struggles. 

Interestingly, a recurring theme at COP30 and at this sharing circle was the oversimplification of climate mobility. We often heard, “Well, why not just address the causes?” But climate-induced migration is already happening, and affected communities have long been working to address root causes. The real barrier is political will – or, too often, political negligence. Reducing the issue to a single lever obscures the structural realities at play. 

Political issues of environmental migration in the era of the rise of extremist parties 

This may have been the most eye-opening panel we participated in. Moderated by Lauren Grant, founding executive director of the Beyond Climate Collaborative, and joined by Gabriela Nagle Alverio, Daniela Alba, Ibrahim Mbamoko, and Zenaida Luisa Lauda Rodriguez, the conversation traced the links between climate stress, political extremism, racism, and narratives of “threat” around migration. 

We raised the situation facing residents of Hemsby on the Norfolk coast, where repeated erosion has left communities unprotected. We learned about the role of ecofascist ideology in several mass shootings – a sobering reminder of how violently climate discourse can be distorted and indeed, weaponised. 

Yet the panel left us energised rather than defeated. Every contributor had come prepared with deep research, sharp analysis, and compassion. Many audience members told us afterwards that they felt seen, validated, and safe. That, ultimately, is why we were at COP. 

Advancing climate justice: legal, artistic, and community responses 

In a vast circle bringing together voices from Bangladesh, Australia, Puerto Rico, Pakistan and beyond, this session felt like a global tapestry of stories, strategies, and creative resistance. Art as preservation; art as activism; law as empowerment; practice as care. Everyone contributed with vulnerability, generosity, and courage. It was a highlight of our week. 

We were due to speak at two further events at the Senegal and Uganda pavilions on 20 November, but these were understandably cancelled following the fire that broke out in the neighbouring pavilion. 

Belém and the realities of COP30 

The people of Belém welcomed us with warmth, generosity, and guidance at every turn. For this we are deeply grateful. 

The militarisation of the summit, however, was impossible to ignore – especially upon our arrival in week two, after protests and counter-protests. While Indigenous voices were centred in many side events and community spaces we attended, this was far from the case across the broader summit: entry to the Blue Zone remained restricted, and Indigenous representation in the negotiation rooms was, once again, painfully thin. 

Climate Rights International captured the contradictions of Brazil’s role well: a government promising to protect the Amazon while simultaneously expanding oil and gas ambitions. Their analysis highlights the gap between rhetoric and reality – a climate-leading narrative sitting uneasily alongside approvals for new exploration. 

Negotiations: small wins, serious losses 

The reaction from civil society has been clear and consistent: 

Fill the Fund noted that while fossil fuel interests “bought silence” in the COP30 text, they cannot silence mobilised communities. Their assessment echoes a central frustration: despite progress on some fronts, finance – particularly for loss and damage – was left hollow. Harjeet Singh summarised the outcome succinctly: 

  • A roadmap to end fossil fuels: won. 
  • A commitment to a Just Transition: won. 
  • Adequate finance: failed. 

He warned that rich nations are “trying to escape their legal and moral obligations” by offering “vacuous pledges” instead of concrete commitments. The structure for action now exists; the task is to force those responsible to fund it. 

World Wildlife Fund (WWF) 

WWF highlighted “small wins” – incremental advances in language on fossil fuel phase-out and climate adaptation – but stressed that core goals remain “out of reach” without far stronger ambition and financing. 

Colombia: mixed reactions 

Colombia’s announcement of a parallel fossil-fuel-focused conference, to be held on Indigenous land in 2026, cast a long shadow. Many observers saw it as incompatible with the spirit of COP30. Local communities expressed disappointment at both the timing and the symbolism: a climate conference winding down while a fossil-fuel conference is prepared on their territory. 

The UK’s post-COP pledge 

Following COP30, the UK government announced it would not licence additional new oil and gas fields. However, as reported by Reuters, several previously approved fields will still go ahead, and the government is maintaining its current tax regime. The pledge represents movement – but not the decisive shift required to align with global 1.5°C pathways. 

Looking ahead 

Whatever the shortcomings of international negotiations, we remain committed to our work. Across panels, circles, and conversations, we found powerful alignment: communities are organising; researchers are advancing the evidence; litigators are pushing boundaries; artists are preserving memory; activists are standing firm. 

Earth Refuge, alongside colleagues around the world, is already planning initiatives for 2026 and beyond. Our commitment to climate mobility justice – to the right to stay, the right to move, and the right to dignity – has only deepened. 

Belém gave us clarity, connection, and conviction. Most importantly, it reminded us that solutions already exist within communities. Our role is to amplify, collaborate, and protect the space for those solutions to thrive. 

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Hemsby on the Frontline: What’s Changed Since Our Last Update

14 November 2025 – by Yumna Kamel

Photo by Simon Measures / Save Hemsby Coastline (SHC)

Hemsby’s battle with coastal erosion has long symbolised the growing struggle faced by communities along England’s eastern seaboard.  

Our original article, published on 15 October 2025, outlines the compounding crises faced by Hemsby’s residents: rapid coastal erosion, and clashes with the local council. 

Now, new information has revealed that the village is being used as a national test case for a policy that could set the template for how the UK government handles coastal loss across the country. 

According to documents from a recent Great Yarmouth Borough Council (GYBC) Cabinet meeting, the local plan for Hemsby will become the model for a national strategy if deemed successful. What happens here will not remain local; Hemsby has effectively become the country’s testing ground for managed retreat. 

At the centre of the plan is a proposal for homeowners to sign away their planning rights in exchange for a small payment before their homes are demolished. Those rights would then be transferred to a separate parcel of land elsewhere. Officials describe this as a form of relocation support, but many residents see it as rollback under another name, providing no meaningful benefit to those who are losing their homes. 

The figures are stark. A total of £90,000 has been set aside for 30 properties (an average of just £3,000 each). Some households have reportedly been offered up to £5,000, a figure that, if applied across the board, would deplete the entire fund before all residents receive help. The Environment Agency has allocated £1.6 million to the wider scheme, of which £90,000 is what remains, but this money will not be available until the next financial year, likely March or April 2026. With another storm season approaching, residents say that even this minimal support will come too late. 

Confusion over who qualifies for help has compounded the frustration. Only 12 of the 30 earmarked households have been contacted so far, including several identified as highly vulnerable. Residents describe distressing experiences with council representatives, including long, pressured phone calls and emails with copies of draft letters. Simon Measures, chairman of the Save Hemsby Coastline campaign shared that one elderly woman believed she had received a formal demolition notice in one such email attachment. She was understandably extremely distressed, and almost in a state of panic. Simon has filed a complaint with the council’s democratic services team, alleging coercive and insensitive behaviour towards vulnerable individuals. 

The community says it has been left abandoned and demoralised. Many feel decisions are being made about them rather than with them. “They are taking a community and smashing it to pieces,” Simon told me on a recent video call. 

Meanwhile, residents themselves have taken to issuing press releases in response to what they describe as the Council’s repeated failures to act. The first, published earlier this autumn, challenged the Council’s removal of defences under health and safety concerns. The second, released on 7 November 2025, focused on the lack of practical support for those at risk. It followed an official warning that some residents faced imminent relocation due to danger. Yet, more than three weeks later no action has been taken – a delay that residents argue exposes the relocation warnings as less about immediate risk and more about administrative convenience for the Council. 

What is unfolding in Hemsby has implications far beyond this small Norfolk village. The approach being tested here could form the basis for how other coastal communities in the UK are managed as erosion accelerates. For residents, the issue is not just about compensation or planning rights but about fairness and the right to remain part of the place they call home. 

We will be raising the issue of Hemsby at COP30 in Brazil, where discussions of climate justice are focused on the notion of loss and damage funding for vulnerable communities. It is shocking that such a situation is unfolding in a small, predominantly white, working-class village in the United Kingdom. That it can happen here: quietly, administratively, and with so little public scrutiny makes it all the more urgent that Hemsby’s story is platformed internationally. This is not only a local tragedy, but a warning of how governments may begin to manage climate loss everywhere. 

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Climate displacement in the UK: Hemsby’s coastline on the edge  

15 October 2025 – by Yumna Kamel

Simon Measures, of the Save Hemsby Coastline campaign.
Photo by Yumna Kamel / Earth Refuge

In August 2025, I was invited by Simon Measures, Chairman of the Save Hemsby Coastline (SHC) campaign, to visit the small coastal village of Hemsby in Norfolk to get an understanding of the scale of coastal erosion, and the resulting displacement of the community. Simon has spent years campaigning for meaningful action to protect this community: rallying residents, petitioning politicians, using his own two hands to clear debris and build coastal defences, and speaking out about the reality of living on a coastline that is disappearing beneath their feet.

SHC is a volunteer-led charity formed by local residents determined to defend their homes and raise awareness of the escalating coastal erosion crisis. SHC has challenged the UK government’s climate adaptation plan in UK courts, and with support from Friends of the Earth and local campaigner Kevin Jordan, has now taken a landmark case to the European Court of Human Rights over the state’s failure to safeguard coastal communities

This is not a slow-moving environmental issue; it’s an immediate emergency. I was told that, in Hemsby, time is measured not in years, but by storms.

With its arcades, fish-and-chip shops, and a funfair in the village centre, Hemsby is the kind of seaside spot that stirs nostalgia for British summers gone by. It is not lost on me, or on Simon, that Hemsby is not the sort of place that one calls to mind when asked to picture a “climate refugee”. It is a predominantly white, English, coastal town.

But walk just a few hundred metres towards the sea, and the illusion shatters.

40 cm of the cliffs disappeared overnight. Photo by Yumna Kamel/Earth Refuge.

That morning, I learned that the cliffs had eroded by 40 centimetres overnight. Forty centimetres, gone before breakfast. The scale and speed of Hemsby’s coastal loss are staggering. The North Sea is advancing relentlessly, and the community that has lived on this fragile edge for generations is fighting to keep its footing.

This blog seeks to bring awareness to the damage in Hemsby – to the coastline, to its people – and to the recent developments that threaten to accelerate the erosion of both land and community. I hope it helps people understand what’s at stake, and how they can stand in solidarity.

Walking the edge

The site of a collapsed road, which no longer exists. Photo by Yumna Kamel/Earth Refuge.

Simon led me along the beach to the south of the village, where the scale of erosion is shocking. Entire stretches of sand dunes have collapsed, leaving gaping sand cliffs that crumble at the lightest touch. Wooden staircases, which just two years ago you could walk down to reach the water, now hang mid-air, leading nowhere.

Further along stand the remnants of homes: now demolished, leaving just the remains of people’s lives. Simon shared that the people – friends and neighbours – who lived in those homes were given barely any time to pack up their lives and go elsewhere.

In 2023 alone, five to seven houses were lost in a single night. The council frames such actions in terms of safety, but locals shared that they see something far starker: erasure. Once homes vanish, they’re erased for good – and with them, the histories, memories and neighbourhood ties they held.

Just this week, more homeowners have been informed by the council that their homes are soon to be demolished. Simon has said that the homes may have held out longer, but the council decided it was safer to take them down.

The trauma of abrupt relocation is deep. Some residents have lived in Hemsby all their lives; others spent decades saving to retire here. Many have no way to secure a new mortgage or find affordable housing elsewhere. Relocation plans rarely factor in the reliance on community support and mutual aid networks, making vulnerable people even more isolated. As neighbours disperse, the ties that held people together fray, and many find it difficult to remain in touch.

Living with the consequences

A home – bearing signs of damage from storms – which is still inhabited. Photo by Yumna Kamel/Earth Refuge.

The physical and emotional burden of coastal erosion on residents is immense. They are not simply losing roofs over their heads; they are losing their sense of grounding.

Isolation compounds mental health strain. Particularly for older residents, disappearing roads and imminent displacement worsen anxiety and deepen loneliness.

The erosion has alarming physical and public health consequences too. As infrastructure crumbles, basic home necessities vanish. Due to disconnection as the result of loss of roads, some households have had to forego plumbing and are made to manage and empty their own cesspits. As a result, and for the sake of hygiene and safety, several families instead make trips into the village to use public toilets which may or may not be open at various times of day or night. It’s humiliating and risky, especially in poor weather or for those with mobility issues.

Yet even amidst this, a spirit of community endures. Neighbours support each other. In conversations, Simon recounted how community members try to uplift one another both at times of crisis (by driving to the scene of destruction to clear the damage of a collapsed road with their own hands, or the local publican opening up her pub for the community to huddle in and weather a storm), and in the small daily moments, too. He shared that his goal is to leave whoever he meets happier than when he first bumped into them.

Tourism is a double-edged sword

Hemsby’s summer fun fair. Photo by Yumna Kamel/Earth Refuge.

Hemsby’s charm – its beautiful beach, its arcades and funfairs – draws thousands of tourists every summer. That influx is vital to the local economy, contributing roughly £88–£90 million a year to Norfolk County, but it also tangibly worsens the severity of what’s happening.

Tourists often disregard erosion warnings: they walk across fragile dunes, trample protective vegetation, ignore danger signs, leave litter, and sometimes venture into areas blocked off for safety. These actions accelerate the damage. Some wander too close to unstable cliffs and debris, risking severe injury – all while the nearest main hospital, James Paget, is about a 12-mile drive away in Great Yarmouth.

A danger sign. Photo by Yumna Kamel/Earth Refuge.

So, tourism has become both Hemsby’s lifeline and its curse: essential for income, yet actively hastening its destruction.

When we paused for a tea break, a curious tourist approached us. She told us she has been visiting Hemsby for years, and over time has watched the coastline recede dramatically – confirming to us that even outsiders can see what locals have known all along.

Coastal erosion is not a priority

Hemsby beach, featuring metallic debris and litter. Photo by Yumna Kamel/Earth Refuge.

Hemsby’s struggle is magnified by national priorities and blunt policy frameworks. Simon explained that, across the UK, the focus remains almost exclusively on flooding. Ministers have visited and presided over consultations that SHC actively participated in – and even then, the resulting publications centred upon flood risk, with scant meaningful mention of coastal erosion.

Much of Norfolk lies less than one metre above sea level, yet funding for coastal defence is patchy and episodic. Simon pointed out that, by contrast, the Dutch, with around 450 kilometres of coastline, operate under a national strategy for erosion management. The Dutch agenda shows that proactive, coordinated coastal defence can be achieved. For instance, sand replenishment is used, with about 12 million m3 of sand deposited yearly on the beaches and below the waterline in front of the coast. In the UK, thousands of miles of coastline – regardless of the Coastline Paradox, which asserts that “length” is not a well-defined measurement for complex natural shapes like coastlines – fall under a fragmented array of local committees and funding programmes. The difference in approach is stark.

A new blow for residents

Hemsby’s people now face a fresh challenge from their own local authority. The council recently announced plans to dismantle the few remaining coastal defences, and to identify further homes for demolition – a decision widely described by the community as a “kick in the teeth”.

The council frames this move as a matter of public safety, but many locals see it as damage control: avoiding bad publicity rather than protecting people. One homeowner, Kevin Jordan, had his house demolished two years ago under the banner of safety; today, the perimeter still stands, suggesting he might have remained in Hemsby if given the chance.

Each demolition further fractures Hemsby’s future. The council’s compensation scheme – offering modest payments tied to lost planning rights – provides no realistic path forward. Most people who live in Hemsby are retirees or live on fixed incomes, which poses the question: how could they afford to buy or build somewhere new? According to Simon, some still live in B&Bs years later. This isn’t just short-sighted; it’s deeply unfair.

Hemsby’s story is one of multiple crises converging:

  • Rapid coastal erosion, reshaping land overnight
  • Mental and physical health strain from continual fear, loss, and deteriorating living conditions
  • Tourism’s double edge: vital to the economy yet worsening the damage
  • Policy neglect, with coastal erosion sidelined in national climate strategy

What you can do

The people of Hemsby, led by Simon and SHC, are doing all they can — but they cannot hold the line alone. SHC continues to campaign tirelessly to secure funding for its legal fees, rebuild defences and bring national attention to the overlooked crisis of coastal erosion.

When I asked Simon what people beyond Hemsby could do, he was emphatic: make as much noise as possible. Hemsby sees itself as the canary in the coalmine for other coastal communities in the UK that will soon face this battle.

You can support Save Hemsby Coastline campaign by:

  • Sharing the stories of individual residents, as well as of the community as a whole
  • Becoming a member of their campaign (for free) to show that there is power in numbers
  • Donating to the Save Hemsby Coastline campaign to help to cover the various costs of the community’s legal challenges, as well as to support their advocacy and community coastal defence initiatives
  • Contacting your local MPs and councillors to raise awareness for coastal erosion in the UK, highlighting the challenges faced by Hemsby’s residents

Because if Hemsby falls, others will follow, and the tide will not wait for politics to catch up.

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What these three landmark climate cases mean for displaced communities

20 August 2025 – by Yumna Kamel

The climate justice movement has scored several landmark legal milestones. From the Hague to San José to Cairns, courts and communities are staking claims about what states owe their people in a rapidly warming world. Though each case speaks in the language of law, the underlying question is both human and existential: what duties do states owe to those whose lives and futures are being destabilised by climate change? How might law – imperfect as it is – serve the aspirations of communities facing not just loss but the reality of being forced to move? 

Three recent legal moments in particular stand out for what they offer, and what they fail to deliver: the Inter-American Court of Human Rights’ (IACHR) recent advisory opinion on the climate emergency, the International Court of Justice’s (ICJ) advisory opinion on climate change, and the Federal Court of Australia’s judgment in the case brought by Torres Strait Islander leaders Uncle Paul Kabai and Uncle Pabai Pabai.  

Together, these decisions reveal a landscape of emerging legal principles, institutional conservatism, and the limits of legal doctrine (that is, rules that guide the interpretation of the law) when confronted with the moral urgency of climate (im)mobility. Climate mobility is the notion of those who have or will move, in whole or in part due to climate factors, while climate immobility considers the circumstances of those who cannot (or will not) move due to climate factors. 

The Inter-American Court of Human Rights’ advisory opinion 

The IACHR’s advisory opinion, handed down on 3 July 2025, is perhaps the most robust articulation to date of climate obligations under human rights law. Requested by Chile and Colombia, the opinion affirms that the right to a healthy environment encompasses the right to a stable climate – but the Court takes it further. It acknowledges climate change as a human rights emergency that threatens not only the rights to life, health, water and food, but also cultural integrity and self-determination. Particularly striking is the Court’s emphasis on differentiated impacts and responsibilities. It recognises that Indigenous peoples, Afro-descendant communities, and small island populations face disproportionate risks, and that states must take affirmative steps to protect these communities through both mitigation and adaptation. 

Perhaps most significantly, the Court situates its reasoning within a framework of interdependence and intergenerational equity, making clear that climate protection is not merely a matter of domestic policy but a collective human obligation. It calls on states to regulate private actors – including major emitters – and to ensure that climate actions are informed by Indigenous knowledge and community participation. In this way, the advisory opinion provides a powerful normative (meaning standard-setting) resource for rights-based climate litigation and advocacy, especially in the Americas. 

Still, its legal authority is limited. As an advisory opinion, it lacks direct enforcement mechanisms. While it references the rights of cross-border climate-displaced persons, it stops short of setting out a framework for how states should concretely respond to the realities of climate-induced migration. The omission is notable. As coastal and low-lying communities in Central America and the Caribbean face rising seas and intensifying storms, the need for proactive mobility frameworks has never been greater. 

International Court of Justice’s advisory opinion on climate change 

The ICJ’s opinion, released just weeks later, similarly affirms that states have legal obligations to address climate change. Framed as a question of international law rather than human rights per se, the opinion draws on the UN Charter, customary international law, and the Paris Agreement. Contextually radical, it confirms that states have a duty to prevent significant environmental harm and to protect the rights of present and future generations. 

However, where the IACHR’s opinion is sweeping and specific, the ICJ’s is more cautious and general. While it underscores that states can be held accountable for inadequate climate action, it avoids adjudicating responsibility in relation to specific harms or state actors. Nor does it meaningfully engage with the lived experience of climate-displaced people, despite calls from Pacific Island nations to recognise the ongoing threat to their sovereignty and survival.  

The ICJ’s opinion may carry more universal legal weight, but its abstract nature does render it less accessible to those seeking immediate relief or recognition. In other words, it signifies an overarching cultural shift, but it is not an immediately accessible tool or solution for those living the realities of climate displacement today.  

Pabai Pabai v Commonwealth of Australia 

If the advisory opinions offer aspirational statements of principle, the decision of the Federal Court of Australia in the Pabai case lays bare the current distance between moral responsibility and legal redress. Filed by two community leaders from the Torres Strait Islands – and following a scathing, non-binding decision from the UN Human Rights Committee in Daniel Billy et al v Australia – the case sought to establish that the Australian government owed a duty of care to protect their homelands from the impacts of climate change. The evidence was clear: rising sea levels are already eroding ancestral lands, contaminating freshwater supplies, and threatening cultural continuity. 

Yet the court declined to recognise a novel duty of care, reasoning that such matters were questions of high government policy unsuited to judicial determination. In doing so, the judgment reaffirmed the longstanding unwillingness of common law courts to intervene in politically sensitive arenas, even where the stakes are existential. The decision acknowledged the scientific basis of the plaintiffs’ claims and the seriousness of the threat they face, but ultimately found that tort law was not the avenue through which climate justice would be achieved for this community. 

This outcome is devastating, if unsurprising. Like the Sharma case before it, Pabai reveals the structural limitations of tort-based climate litigation in jurisdictions where courts are reluctant to impose duties on the state. Yet, like the beginnings of the ICJ Advisory Opinion instigated by the Pacific Islands Students Fighting Climate Change (PISFCC), it highlights the resilience and innovation of Indigenous legal strategies.  

The plaintiffs have already indicated that they will appeal, and their broader campaign continues to push for legislative and political recognition of climate harm as a matter of Indigenous justice and sovereignty. 

What do these decisions, taken together, mean for climate (im)mobility? 

Taken together, these three legal developments offer a snapshot of a global legal order in flux. Advisory opinions like those from the ICJ and IACtHR may lack coercive force, but they reshape the rights-based terrain, providing tools and language for communities and advocates to press their claims. Domestic judgments, even adverse ones, can catalyse political organising and public awareness.  

As always, the law alone is not enough. It must be accompanied by a willingness to reimagine legal contemplations and redress in ways that centre the voices and knowledge of those most affected. 

For climate-affected communities, particularly Indigenous peoples whose ties to land and culture are not easily transplanted, the challenge is not only to secure recognition, but to ensure that any mobility is just, dignified, and community-led. That requires legal initiatives and frameworks that are capable of grappling with displacement, not as an unfortunate side effect, but as a central justice concern.  

As these cases show, we are not there yet. But the path is being cleared, one legal claim at a time. 

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Climate-related Migration in the IPCC Synthesis Report 

4 April 2023 – by Lauren Grant and Gaia Hasse

“An atlas of human suffering,” a “damning indictment of failed climate leadership” and a “survival guide for humanity” – these are a few of the words that United Nations Secretary-General António Guterres has used to refer to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s (IPCC) Sixth Assessment Report (AR6), released March 20, 2023. 

While the full report has not yet been released, the published Summary for Policymakers alludes to the increasing certainty of the UN’s leading scientific body on the link between climate change impacts and human mobility, which has been evolving throughout the five preceding IPCC Assessment Reports, published since 1990. Just as those that have preceded it, the summary will play a key role influencing the political agendas of governments on climate change.  

What does the AR6 say about climate-related migration & displacement? 

The summary specifies that climatic and weather extremes are increasingly driving migration, involuntary mobility and disaster displacement in almost every region of the world, noting the disproportionate impacts of climate-related mobility for Small Island Developing States (SIDS). These findings are consistent with the realities that climate and disaster-related displacement are occurring across the globe, with an average of more than 20 million people displaced internally related to extreme-weather events each year since 2008, with South Asia, East Asia and the Pacific being the hardest hit regions.

The report emphasizes that exposure to climate-related hazards, which increase the vulnerability of frontline communities to a host of displacement drivers – such as floods, storms, droughts and sea-level rise – is set to worsen with every 0.5℃ of warming. Weather extremes are expected to increase in frequency and intensity, yielding to greater climate variability, posing serious threats to crop productivity, related livelihoods and food security across local and global scales. Heatwaves, for example, will likely occur 4.1 times more frequently with 1.5℃ of warming. 

Overall, the summary highlights that climate change impacts on people and ecosystems are already more widespread than expected and future risks will escalate rapidly as temperatures rise – which is already having, and will only continue to have devastating impacts for the forced displacement of increasingly vulnerable communities. 

While the 2013/2014 IPCC Fifth Assessment Report (AR5) offered a nuanced approach into the ways in which migration can be – and for many in several parts of the world already is – a viable adaptation strategy, the AR6 Summary for Policymakers does not thoroughly cover migration as a form of adaptation. Instead, the summary briefly mentions that voluntary migration may reduce exposure to climate-related risks, if facilitated in a safe and orderly fashion and cautions that migration should not always be considered a form of adaptation. The report points out that migration, relocation and resettlement can be considered forms of response to climate change, without diving deeper into ongoing policy debates which highlight the opportunities and problematics of migration as a form of adaptation. 

Migration as a form of adaptation to climatic and environmental impacts? Framing the issue. 

On one hand, the caution imbued within the IPCC’s AR6 approach to migration as a form of adaptation speaks to the needs and aspirations of many frontline communities to voluntarily remain in place and adapt (voluntary immobility), and the importance of climate adaptation policies which empower people to do so. On the other hand, growing evidence of migration as an adaptation strategy around the world brings the issue into the spotlight. For example, migration is increasingly used as an adaptation strategy in the case of the millions of India’s landless Dalits, the victims of desertification in northeast Brazil and the historic floods in Pakistan, exposing the escalating effects of climate (in)justice.

Hence, the IPCC’s minimal discussion around these nuances presents a missed opportunity to put these crucial considerations on the table of state-led climate policy-makers, particularly at a time in which states are increasingly recognizing human mobility within their National Adaptation Plans (NAPs). According to recent findings by SLYCAN Trust, for example, as of March 2023, 82.5% of the NAPs submitted to the UNFCCC and NAP Central reference one or more forms of human mobility, and 70% of NAPs contain concrete provisions or commitments to address mobility in some way. 

While the Longer AR6 Report calls upon states and key stakeholders to work in cooperation to remove barriers by opening up safe, orderly and humane pathways for migration in the context of climate change and disasters, it fails to examine the ways in which such measures can be linked to states’ broader adaptation and resilience-building efforts. This is crucial because the vast majority of policy developments dealing with human mobility in the context of climate change have placed greater emphasis on reducing migration and displacement drivers through mitigation and adaptation efforts, and less on facilitating movement explicitly. Further, despite that climate change impacts pose serious threats to the enjoyment of human rights, as has been recognized within the Paris Agreement and the UNFCCC, the IPCC summary only briefly allied to human rights and the need for rights-based approaches to address the adverse effects of climate change, without mentioning rights in the context of climate-related migration and displacement. 

What could AR6 findings and shortcomings mean for the rights-based protection of displaced persons? 

The AR6 Long Report underscores that rights-based, socially-just and redistributive approaches to mitigation and adaptation tend to lead to greater outcomes for reducing vulnerability and exposure to climate risks, enhanced resiliency and more sustainable development. However, the document fails to explicitly link these findings to questions of climate-related mobility and displacement. As protecting and upholding the rights of all persons in the context of climate change poses a series of challenges for climate change, disaster risk reduction, migration and sustainable development policies, an enhanced focus on these links to the nuanced debates on migration as a form of adaptation and voluntary and involuntary immobility is urgent and should not be overlooked. 

Under international human rights law, states hold obligations to protect the rights of individuals. These include basic rights to food, housing, employment and education, access to health, water and sanitation, gender equality and Indigenous rights, as well as the right to migrate and seek asylum. Recent and momentous developments, such as the United Nations resolution declaring the human right to a clean, healthy and sustainable environment and the historical resolution adopted by consensus at the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) requesting an advisory opinion from the International Court of Justice (ICJ) on the obligations of States with respect to climate change, are catalysts for rights-based climate action on multiple levels. In line with the Paris Agreement, governments should integrate their existing human rights obligations and commitments into national climate and broader environmental policies, particularly through their   National Adaptation Policies (NAPs) and Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs). 

States must not miss the opportunities for scaling up climate action as outlined in the IPCC summary, but should go beyond in their the efforts to ensure that the human rights of all – whether they migrate, are forcibly displaced or remain in place (voluntarily or involuntarily) – are respected and protected in the context of climate change.

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Why India Needs to Prioritize Climate Adaptation Over Mitigation

Looking out towards the imposing Mehrangarh Fort in the Blue City of Jodhpur, India.

27 July 2022 – by Skand Agarwal

At COP26, India’s Prime Minister Modi announced the country’s commitment to become a net-zero carbon emitter by 2070. Alongside this, the adoption of the country’s 2022 Green Hydrogen Policy also displays further dedication to achieve this ambitious plan – including supplying up to 50% of the nation’s total energy through renewable sources by 2030.

However, despite the government’s claims of environmental action, India had become the world’s third-largest emitter of carbon dioxide by 2020 (with China and the US respectively ranked first and second).

This is especially concerning given the questions surrounding India’s capability to adapt to climate change. Several Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Assessment Reports have concluded that countries like India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh are some of the most climate-vulnerable countries in the world. In recent years, India has experienced an increase in environmental disasters – such as cyclones, glacier melts, heat waves, floods, and more. In March 2022, the country recorded its hottest temperatures in 122 years. Some two months later, temperatures in several of India’s states had reached a new high of 49ºC (120ºF).

The Impact of Extreme Weather

The recent increase in heatwaves has already had a severe impact on the country’s economy and healthcare system, as well as its agricultural industry. In May 2022, some of the most affected areas of the country saw wheat yields drop by up to 50% – worsening the fears over a global wheat shortage related to the Russian government’s invasion of Ukraine in late February 2022.

What’s more, agricultural workers in the country are also facing a number of challenges. As a result of climate change, summer months are beginning earlier in the year, which can disrupt crop cycles and harvest seasons. Sporadic and prolonged summers months are also making it more difficult to predict monsoon seasons, meaning India’s farmers need to find new ways to adapt to more erratic weather patterns – or migrate to areas with more suitable growing conditions.

Farmers are not the only group of people who are affected by the earlier onset of summer. As a result of higher temperatures, an unprecedented demand for electricity (alongside a coal shortage) has led the entire population to face one of its worst electricity crises in decades. Some states such as Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, and Punjab are experiencing load shedding for up to eight hours per day – worsening the food crisis as many people are left unable to store refrigerated goods at home.

Rainfall levels are also becoming more unpredictable in India. For instance, the northeastern state of Assam has experienced significantly high levels of pre-monsoon rainfall, which have led to state-wide flooding. Moreover, this extreme weather caused one of the country’s major rivers, the Brahmaputra, to overflow – affecting around 500,000 people across 1,500 villages. And while India’s National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA) is providing aid and support to the affected people, the sudden influx of migration to surrounding cities has undoubtedly added pressure to local administrations which we already struggling to meet demand.

But flash floods are not an uncommon phenomenon in the state of Assam. According to statistics from the Government of Assam’s Water Resources department, the region experiences three to four floods per year. Not only do these floods displace millions of people annually, they also cause extensive environmental degradation such as coastal erosion. However, despite how concerning these natural disasters are, local governments have failed to implement effective climate adaptation plans that can predict upcoming floods.

Climate Mitigation in India

In order for India to deal with these ever-worsening problems, climate mitigation strategies are essential, but the government also needs to grant equal focus to adaptation techniques. Studies indicate that it can take decades to achieve positive results from implementing climate mitigation strategies. In fact, one of the key findings of the IPCC’s sixth Assessment Report (AR6) was that between 2010 and 2019, the highest-ever levels of global greenhouse gas emissions were recorded – despite multiple international efforts to mitigate the impact of climate change since the 1990s.

This is especially concerning for India. The World Meteorological Organization (WMO) reported that since 1986, the Indian subcontinent has been facing an increasing number of heatwaves. What’s more, it predicts that the intensity, duration, and frequency of these heatwaves will significantly increase in the coming years.

So how is the Indian government working to mitigate and adapt to these rapidly changing climates – if at all? In 2015, India launched its National Adaptation Fund for Climate Change (NAFCC) with a budget allocation of 3.5 billion rupees (350 crores, or around US $44 million). However, research from The Indian Express found that since 2017, the grants released from the NAFCC have been steadily declining. Between 2017 and 2018, the government spent around 115 crores (around US $14.5 million), whereas between 2021 and 2022, only 27.8 crores (around US $350,000) were used to fund climate adaptation strategies.

There have been an increasing number of calls for the Indian government to implement more heatwave adaptation strategies, such as the ones enacted in the city of Ahmedabad in 2013, following on more than 1,300 deaths during a heatwave in 2010. Since the implementation of this strategy, the city has prevented around 1,100 deaths each year.

However, a significant proportion of the country’s population still remains vulnerable to the impact of climate change – particularly those who live in slum areas, as well as agricultural workers. It’s evident that death rates attributed to the effects of extreme heatwaves are still increasing. This is largely because of economic vulnerability, as day laborers and slum populations are forcibly more exposed to excessive heat levels for prolonged periods of time.

A Move Towards Mitigation

Models can be used to predict the early onset of heatwaves, including tools developed by the WMO and the India Meteorological Department (IMD). But the government still has an obligation to develop and implement more short and long-term solutions that not only protect people from climate-related health hazards, but also provide solutions that help to safeguard the livelihoods of more vulnerable communities. Moreover, these solutions should be implemented alongside community rehabilitation programs, widespread health and safety awareness campaigns, and localized economic programs across the country.

India has a varied climate; while the north faces extreme heatwaves, the northeast of the country is experiencing flash floods. These differences only serve to strengthen the case that the government needs to develop localized programs to mitigate and adapt to region-specific climate disasters.

Undoubtedly, climate mitigation is important, but it is certainly not sufficient for such a climate-diverse country like India. Findings from several IPCC reports have proven that to successfully handle issues related to climate change, both mitigation and adaptation strategies need to be implemented together. India has already heavily invested in climate mitigation, but it is now time for the country’s government to do the same with climate adaptation.

Found this article interesting? Make sure to read to read our article on how technology, policy, and social efforts are key for the future of climate change mitigation in India.

Skand Agarwal currently studies Transnational Governance, with a specialisation in climate change and environment, at the European University Institute in Florence, Italy.

Born in India, Skand has experience working with military think tanks, media houses, and in environmental activism, through which he aims to contribute to South Asia’s climate adaptability and resilience, while also advocating for the much-ignored rights of climate migrants. Skand also contributes to Earth Refuge’s Faces podcast series.

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Can the International Criminal Court Prosecute Ecocide?

low-angle photography of tall tress during daytime

27 May 2022 – by Mary Rizk

On 22 June 2021, an international expert drafting panel commissioned by the Stop Ecocide Foundation shared its proposal for a fifth crime under the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court (ICC). After approximately a year of negotiations, the new legal definition for the term “ecocide” emerged and was highly praised by a number of environmentalists. However, many are concerned about how the crime of ecocide could be prosecuted in practice.

The New Proposed Definition

The panel of international lawyers defined ecocide as “unlawful or wanton acts committed with knowledge that there is a substantial likelihood of severe and either widespread or long-term damage to the environment being caused by those acts”. If the introduction of this definition is welcomed and the efforts to criminalise ecocide are successful, the ICC would effectively be able to hold accountable those responsible for major ecological harms, such as governments and corporations.

The panel described “wanton” to mean: “reckless disregard for damage which would be clearly excessive in relation to the social and economic benefits anticipated” and “severe” as: “damage which involves very serious adverse changes, disruption, or harm to any element of the environment, including grave impacts on human life or natural, cultural, or economic resources”. According to Phillipe Sands, who co-chaired the expert panel, the definition catches “the most egregious acts”, such as major oil spills and transboundary nuclear accidents.

The History of Ecocide

The battle for the recognition of ecocide as an international crime has been a lengthy and challenging process. 

The term ecocide was first used in the 1970s, particularly in relation to whether the US was creating an ecocide in Vietnam during the war. In 1970, when speaking at the Conference on War and National Responsibility, Professor Arthur W. Galston suggested that there should be “a new international agreement to ban ecocide”. In 1972, at the United Nations (UN) Conference on the Human Environment, Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme explicitly described the Vietnam War as an “ecocide”. In 1985, the concept of ecocide resurfaced with a failed attempt to add ecocide to the Genocide Convention. Furthermore, the UN’s International Law Commission decided not to include “environmental crime” as an independent crime in its Code of Crimes against the Peace and Security of Mankind.

In 2016, there was a shift in focus for the ICC, mainly in response to criticism for its unwillingness to investigate major environmental crimes at the time. The ICC’s Office of the Prosecutor, under former ICC Prosecutor Fatou Bensouda, published a policy paper which stated that the ICC would “prioritise” the prosecution of governments and individuals for environmental crimes, such as illegal exploitation of natural resources and land-grabbing.

Challenges in Applying the Ecocide Term

The ICC only has jurisdiction over natural persons, so it does not have jurisdiction to investigate and prosecute corporations. Therefore, where there has been alleged corporate involvement in ecocide, a corporation itself cannot stand before the court because (legally speaking) it is not a natural person. A further hurdle would be which of its corporate officers would be held accountable for the alleged crime of ecocide.

Additionally, a member of the expert panel, Christina Voigt stated that regardless of the exact wording to be adopted by State Parties, altering the Rome Statute to include the crime of ecocide will not be an easy accomplishment. Voigt notes that there will be difficulty in building broader political support and global cooperation around the definition. Thus, it appears that formulating a legal definition is just the first step: a member state needs to propose it to the ICC, thereafter it would need to be approved by a majority of ICC States.  If the law is adopted into the Statute, harming nature or the planet will start to feel similar to harming humans. Nonetheless, the process of debating the definition will most likely take numerous years, while some argue it could take decades.

States such as  France, Belgium, and Canada  have voiced their support for ecocide to be recognised as a crime. However, it is important to note that the world’s top polluters, such as the United States, China, and India, are not members of the ICC.

The ICC is an autonomous and permanent court, established to investigate, prosecute, and try individuals accused of committing the most serious crimes of concern to the international community – namely genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes, and the crime of aggression. The ICC does not replace national criminal justice systems, it complements them. It can investigate and, where warranted, prosecute and try individuals as a “last resort”, for instance, where proceedings are unduly delayed.

The proposed definition could be a historical development for the entire world as environmental damage is growing dramatically. The existence of “ecocide” will amplify the issue of the environment. If ecocide were to be recognised in international law, corporations, as well as governments, would be held responsible for environmental damage. They would be forced to take the issue seriously and would not escape the consequences without punishment. Immediate action should be taken by including “ecocide” as the fifth international crime against peace.

Did you enjoy reading this piece? Then read our article on why the UK Parliament considered joining an independent expert panel in recommending ‘Ecocide’ as a new crime for ICC.

Mary Rizk is currently undertaking the Bar Professional Training Course at BPP Law School. She holds an LLM from Queen Mary, University of London. Mary has a particular interest in international human rights, criminal, and social justice issues.

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More Than a Transaction: Indigenous Land Reconciliation in the US and Australia

green trees near river under blue sky during daytime

4 May 2022 – by Ben Chappelow

In September 2021, after four years of negotiations, Australia’s Queensland government returned four national parks to the Aboriginal Eastern Kuku Yalanji peoples. Spanning some 400,000 acres, these parks include the UNESCO World Heritage-listed Daintree Rainforest – the world’s oldest remaining rainforest.

The Eastern Kuku Yalanji peoples and the Queensland government will jointly manage the land for the foreseeable future. However, the overall goal is for the Eastern Kuku Yalanji peoples to become the sole and autonomous proprietors of their Indigenous land.

“The Eastern Kuku Yalanji people’s culture is one of the world’s oldest living cultures,” says Meaghan Scanlon MP, Queensland’s Minister for Environment, the Great Barrier Reef, and Science and Youth Affairs. “This agreement recognises their right to own and manage their Country, to protect their culture, and to share it with visitors as they become leaders in the tourism industry.”[1]

A month after Australia returned land to the Eastern Kuku Yalanji peoples, the United States (US) government restored full federal protective rights to the Bears Ears and Grand Staircase-Escalante monuments in southern Utah.[2] The previous administration, which was seeking to extract the land’s fossil fuels, had drastically reduced the size of the Bears Ears monument by up to 85%, as well as halving the area of the protected Grand Staircase-Escalante. This was the single largest rollback of public lands protections in the history of the US. These lands, which span more than 3 million acres, are vital pieces of culture and history for many Indigenous peoples, including the Hopi, Navajo, Uintah and Ouray Ute, Ute Mountain Ute, and Zuni tribes.[3]

What’s more, the US government and local officials continue to bolster protections for Native lands which facilitate the transition of ownership back to Indigenous communities. In December 2020, the Trump administration signed legislation which initiated the relinquishment of more than 18,000 acres of the National Bison Range to the Salish and Kootenai tribes. [4] In October 2021, around five acres of land were transferred to the Rhode Island Narragansett tribe. It was on this same land that the Indigenous Narragansett peoples survived near-annihilation at the hands of English colonisers in 1675.[5]

As a result of land reconciliation, not only can Indigenous communities return as rightful owners of their Native lands, they can also improve local environmental protection efforts.

The Positive Impacts of Land Reconciliation

For Australia’s Eastern Kuku Yalanji people, reclaiming their land is the first step towards long-term, sustainable social and economic growth.

“Our goal is to establish a foundation to provide confident and competent people with pathways and opportunities for mentoring, training, apprenticeships, work experience, and employment for our Eastern Kuku Yalanji Bama,” says Eastern Kuku Yalanji Traditional Owners Negotiating Committee Member Chrissy Grant. “[The goal is] to fill positions from a wide range of skilled trades, land and sea management, hospitality, tourism, and research so that we are in control of our own destinies.”

The Eastern Kuku Yalanji tribe has lived sustainably on these lands for some 50,000 years. The Kuku Yalanji Aboriginal culture is based on a deep respect for nature, with a heavy dependency on the ecosystem’s natural cycle. Their Indigenous expertise is vital in implementing sustainable conservation efforts, as well as protecting natural resources against climate stressors.

According to Meaghan Scanlon, these national parks will “protect important Aboriginal cultural sites, diverse ecosystems (including rainforests, woodlands, wetlands and mangroves), and form part of the Wet Tropics World Heritage Area, which is recognised as the second most irreplaceable World Heritage site on Earth.”

In Montana, the Salish and Kootenai tribes have a long history with managing local bison ranges, and their approach is seemingly more beneficial than previous federal tactics. “We treat the buffalo with less stress, and handle them with more respect,” says Tom McDonald, an Indigenous person and Fish and Wildlife Division Manager for both tribes.[6] The Salish and Kootenai tribes are also co-managing migrating bison herds from Yellowstone National to US Forest Service land.

Native peoples generally take a more sensitive and familial approach to handling bison populations. Their techniques include keeping bison families together, mitigating the likelihood of stampedes, and ultimately reducing stress placed on the animals. These Indigenous animal handling techniques have helped to improve conservation efforts and management of the land, as well as the welfare of the animals which inhabit it.

In Rhode Island, the Narragansett tribe will be recognised as the stewards of their Indigenous land, utilising their traditional ecological knowledge to preserve it. “We agreed to protect it; we agreed to steward it,” says Morgan Grefe, Executive Director of the Historical Society. “We’re here in continuation of that promise—to see that this land is protected and stewarded in a way that we could never have accomplished ourselves”.[7]

These examples indicate the in-depth expertise that Indigenous peoples have for their Native land, as well as their cultural mastery in preserving natural resources. According to a United Nations review of more than 300 studies, rates of deforestation in South America were 50% lower in areas under Indigenous control when compared to areas managed by non-Native communities.[8] Protecting these forests is vital for mitigating the threats of climate change and preventing the extinction of regional wildlife.

World leaders are also beginning to acknowledge the significance of Indigenous expertise in lessening the effects of climate change. At COP26, the US, the UK, Germany, the Netherlands, and several private donors collectively pledged to provide US $1.7 billion to support Indigenous and local communities in tackling climate change and protecting biodiversity.[9] The funds have the potential to help Native communities build their own infrastructure, resolve territorial disputes, and support land reforms, among other endeavours.

Opportunities for Further Reconciliation

Beyond the expertise that Indigenous communities provide, transferring stolen land back to its owners is a moral obligation. The Indigenous peoples mentioned here have been dispossessed, abused, neglected, and in the case of the Narragansett tribe, nearly annihilated. This pain cannot be healed by simply acknowledging these wrongdoings – it requires a long-term commitment to restore what rightfully belongs to Native communities. The returning of Indigenous land is the first step in showing such commitment.

Hayden King, the Executive Director of the Yellowhead Institute and co-writer of the text Land Back, describes the returning of Native land through the perspective of the Beausoleil First Nation tribe as more than just returning property. “It’s also about revitalising Indigenous life, because we’re thinking about land as everything in unity, we’re thinking about our languages… our culture… our family, and social organisations connected to the land.”[10]

The returning of land is not only an opportunity for reconciliation, but a path for the autonomous growth and reestablishment of Indigenous communities. As Brian Lightfoot Brown of the Narragansett Tribe states, the land “is so deeply ingrained in who we are”.[11]

As world leaders gradually continue to rightfully recognise the benefits of including Indigenous communities in environmental preservation programmes, the fact that Native peoples are given back their land and resources is not just transactional. It’s an opportunity to plant the seeds of growth and restoration, while the land still remains fertile.

Was this article interesting? Then make sure to listen to our podcast on Native Climate Justice Organiser Ruth Miller and Her Work Towards an Indigenised Just Transition.

Benjamin Chappelow is a writer and narrative designer in the Appalachian mountains, United States.

As an immigration researcher and former Narrative Writer for the Climate Resilience Toolkit, he is focused on how the stories we tell dictate our behavior in an ecological crisis. 

References

 [1] The Queensland Cabinet and Ministerial Directory. (2021, September 28). 160,000 hectares returned on path to reconciliation. Ministerial Media Statements. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

 [2] Shivaram, D. (2021, October 8). Biden restores protections for bears ears monument, 4 years after Trump downsized it. NPR. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[3] 7 big questions: What’s happening with bears ears and other national monuments? The Wilderness Society. (2021, August). Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[4]  U.S. Department of the Interior. (2021, January). Secretary Bernhardt Signs historic secretarial order to transition the National Bison Range into Tribal Trust for the Flathead Indian Reservation. Indian Affairs. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[5] Associated Press. (2021, October 27). Tribe Given Land Where Ancestors Survived Near-Annihilation. U.S. News & World Report. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[6]  Robbins, J. (2021, June 3). How returning lands to Native Tribes is helping protect nature. Yale E360. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[7] Nunes, A. (2022, January 17). Site of ‘great swamp massacre’ returned to Narragansett Indian tribe. The Public’s Radio. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[8] Carrington, D. (2021, March 25). Indigenous peoples by far the best guardians of forests – UN report. The Guardian. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[9] Sutherland, L. (2021, November 3). $1.7 billion pledged in support of indigenous and local communities’ land tenure. Mongabay Environmental News. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[10]  Monroe-Kane, C. (2021, December 20). How the land back movement is reclaiming land stolen from indigenous people. Wisconsin Public Radio. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

[11]  Brown, B. L. (2021, November 15). Long overdue: Sacred site returned to the Narragansett. Indian Country Today. Retrieved January 18, 2022.

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Brazil’s 490/2007 Bill: Stripping Indigenous Communities of Their Land Rights

amazon rainforest

27 April 2022 – by Shambhavi Kant

Brazil is home to the largest rainforest in the world, the Amazon, where many Indigenous communities reside. Although deforestation has been rampant in Brazil for decades, it has soared to new heights under the administration of Jair Messias Bolsonaro, the current President. In recent years, he has proposed several controversial laws which would result in further deforestation, irreparably affecting the lives of Indigenous communities across Brazil.

One such proposal which is of particular concern amongst Brazilian and international communities is Bill 490/ 2007.  The Bill, which has been sitting before congress since it was proposed by President Bolsarono in 2007, was approved under the Constitution and Justice Committee in June 2021, and is currently pending before the House of Deputies. 

The Amazon is home to more than 30 million people in its entirety, including several hundred Indigenous tribes. Research suggests that these communities have lived in the Amazon for around 5,000 years without causing any detectable loss or disturbance to local wildlife. Despite the fact that many Indigenous communities have been impacted in one way or another by outsiders, most continue to live in harmony with the environment through traditional, sustainable ways of utilizing the land.

Many of the other effects of deforestation – including habitat destruction, loss of biodiversity, disappearance of endangered species, loss of the rainforest’s influence on climate, and dampening of its ability to absorb emissions – are relatively well known. However, the devastating impact on Indigenous communities of damaging such precious land is often largely ignored by mainstream media.

This article attempts to shed some light on the discriminatory proposals contained within the above Bill, and, were it to be passed, explore its likely impacts at a human rights level.

Why is Brazil’s 490/2007 Bill So Detrimental to Indigenous Communities?

In pushing for this Bill, President Bolsonaro has argued that Indigenous communities are preventing development of the Amazon. Furthermore, there are several troublesome proposals contained within it which seek to erode the rights of Indigenous communities.

If this Bill were passed, it would prevent Brazil’s Indigenous communities from obtaining legal recognition of their traditional lands if they were not physically present there on October 5, 1988, or if they had not initiated any legal proceedings to claim it by that date. The Constitution of Brazil, on the other hand, recognizes Indigenous peoples’ right to “the lands they traditionally occupy” without any time limits or arbitrary cut-off date.

In addition, the Bill not only prevents Indigenous peoples from claiming additional land in order to expand already demarcated territories, but it also permits the government to remove Indigenous reserves. These reserves are the lands provided to Indigenous peoples by the government to protect their livelihoods and promote their cultural survival, which is especially crucial given that many Native Brazilians live entirely off the local land through a hunting, gathering, and cultivating crops. Under this proposal, the government would be able to eradicate these reserves and repossess land when it believes that it is no longer required for the cultural survival of the Indigenous communities.

What’s more, the Bill also allows the Brazilian government to find energy resources, set up military bases, develop strategic roads, and implement commercial agriculture on protected Indigenous tribal lands, without any prior discussion with the affected peoples. Once again, this deviates from the rights inscribed within the Brazilian Constitution, specifically Article 231(3)  which prohibits any mining on Indigenous land without prior consultation with Indigenous peoples. Furthermore, international standards also necessitate effective consultation with Indigenous peoples in good faith to obtain their free consent before approving any project that would affect their livelihoods in any manner.  For instance, Article 15(2) of The Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention, 1989, to which Brazil is a signatory, requires governments to establish procedures through which they shall consult the Indigenous peoples about the projects in their lands.

Violations of Indigenous Rights Under National and International Law

It is clear that to remove, exploit, or otherwise compromise land owned by and lived on by Indigenous people is not only a violation of national and international law, but also amounts to forcible displacement. Yet it appears that there is no recourse within this Bill for Native peoples to oppose these harmful plans.

President Bolsonaro not only continues to encourage mining and farming on Indigenous protected lands, but has now also approved a cut to the environment ministry budget. The opening up of Indigenous land for commercial agriculture and mining would increase the already rampant deforestation of the Amazon Rainforest, with grave repercussions for not only those whose families and ancestors have lived there for millennia, but also for the planet as a whole.

The demarcation and protection of Indigenous lands is not only important for upholding the rights of Indigenous Brazilians, but is also an effective measure for slowing down deforestation in Brazil. Several studies have shown that measures for securing tribal lands, like demarcation of Indigenous property, are in themselves effective in slowing down rates of deforestation. It is important to note that President Bolsonaro has not approved any demarcation of Indigenous land since January 2019.  

Indigenous peoples are dependent on Native lands for their livelihoods and cultural survival. If passed, the Bill would make it impossible for these communities to have their land rights recognized, and would also undermine those rights which are granted to them by the Brazilian constitution, along with international conventions like 1989 The Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention. It is hoped that this Bill, particularly its most harmful elements, will be prevented from passing, in order to safeguard the rights of Indigenous people across the Amazon and beyond.

Did you enjoy reading this? Then make sure to read our article on how Brazil’s Supreme Court is backing Indigenous communities in the fight for ancestral territory.

Shambhavi Kant is a third year law student at Rajiv Gandhi National University of Law, Punjab. She is extremely interested in the field of Human Rights and likes to write about similar topics.

Shambhavi also has a profound interest in animal rights protection.  

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As COP26 Negotiations Came to an End, the Inadequacies of the Glasgow Climate Pact Were Clear

black charcoal

8 December 2021 – by Evelyn Workman

On Saturday 13th November, the 2021 United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP26) drew to a close after 2 weeks of charged negotiations between almost 200 nations. The “Glasgow Climate Pact” was adopted late on Saturday evening, but the final hours of negotiations weren’t without some setbacks. 

The biggest of these revolved around coal, with both India and China having opposed early drafts of the deal due to concerns about the language used around the world’s most polluting fossil fuel. They pushed for an updated version to include a watered-down commitment to a “phase-down” of coal, rather than the original “phase out”. 

Scientists have repeatedly warned that global heating beyond 1.5°C above pre-industrial temperatures could lead to irreversible changes in our climate system. Coal emissions are central to discussions around keeping below 1.5°C, as coal is currently responsible for more than 40% of annual CO2 emissions. As such, the diluted language of “phase down” has been met with resistance by climate activists, as it weakens the commitment to getting rid of the use of coal completely. The change of language was a cause for celebration for many coal advocates, since “phase down” represents a “green light for more coal production”, in the words of pro-coal Australian senator Matthew Canavan.

The pledges on emission cuts set out in the pact have been widely criticized, as analysis has shown that they fall short of what is required to meet the 1.5°C of warming agreed at the Paris Climate Accord. A study for the Climate Action Tracker website shows that if the 2030 targets announced at COP26 are implemented in their entirety, temperatures are still projected to rise to 2.4°C by 2100. Warming above 2°C will lead to more extreme droughts, increased Arctic sea ice loss, and almost complete loss of coral reefs, compared to 1.5°C. The Tracker also calculates an “optimistic scenario” which assumes “full implementation of all announced targets” including long-term strategies. This scenario still overshoots the Paris agreement goal, with projected warming sitting at 1.8°C by 2100. 

Many poorer countries were left feeling disappointed by the pact, as they felt their concerns around “loss and damage” were not adequately addressed. “Loss and damage” refers to rich countries, who are predominantly responsible for climate change, paying poor countries to compensate them for climate change caused damage which disproportionately affects poorer nations.

Throughout the conference, vulnerable nations emphasised how the climate crisis has already impacted them. A particularly powerful message came from Tuvalu’s foreign minister, Simon Kofe, who made his address to delegates standing knee-deep in seawater, highlighting the impact sea-level rise is having on the low-lying Pacific Island nation.

A group of 55 nations particularly vulnerable to the impacts of climate change, formed the Climate Vulnerable Forum (CVF). At the start of COP, CVF had issued a call for a “Climate Emergency Pact”, which called for at least $500bn in climate finance during 2020-2024, for mitigation and adaptation. 

Despite these calls, the countries involved had to instead settle for the less definitive language used in the pact, which “urges” rich countries to increase funding for poor countries to around US$40 billion annually – just an eighth of the requested funding – by 2025, to help them adapt to effects of climate change. Moreover, developed countries have consistently failed to meet previous financial promises. At the 2009 Copenhagen climate change summit, wealthy countries agreed to pay US$100 billion each year by 2020 to developing countries to help them adapt to climate change, but only 80% of that has been delivered. 

During the closing of the conference, COP26 President Alok Sharma apologised for the pact, saying that he was “deeply sorry” for how the process unfolded and the lacklustre commitments from the international community regarding coal. COP26 concluded with the promise that all countries will return to the negotiating table in a year’s time in Egypt to re-examine national plans.

Evelyn Workman graduated with a Master’s degree in climate physics from Utrecht University in 2020. This degree program allowed her to marry her passions for both physics and climate change. In October 2021 she started a PhD program at the British Antarctic Survey due to her eagerness to pursue further scientific research within the field of climate change. During her PhD studies she will be investigating methane in and above polar oceans.

This article was originally published in the Earth Refuge Archive as part of our collaboration with Human Rights Pulse on the COP26 Summit.