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California tribe enters first-of-its-kind agreement with the state to practice cultural burns

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Thursday, February 27, 2025

Northern California’s Karuk Tribe has for more than a century faced significant restrictions on cultural burning — the setting of intentional fires for both ceremonial and practical purposes, such as reducing brush to limit the risk of wildfires.That changed this week, thanks to legislation championed by the tribe and passed by the state last year that allows federally recognized tribes in California to burn freely once they reach agreements with the California Natural Resources Agency and local air quality officials. The tribe announced Thursday that it was the first to reach such an agreement with the agency.“Karuk has been a national thought leader on cultural fire,” said Geneva E.B. Thompson, Natural Resources’ deputy secretary for tribal affairs. “So, it makes sense that they would be a natural first partner in this space because they have a really clear mission and core commitment to get this work done.”In the past, cultural burn practitioners first needed to get a burn permit from the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, a department within the Natural Resources Agency, and a smoke permit from the local air district. The law passed in September 2024, SB 310, allows the state government to, respectfully, “get out of the way” of tribes practicing cultural burns, said Thompson.For the Karuk Tribe, Cal Fire will no longer hold regulatory or oversight authority over the burns and will instead act as a partner and consultant. The previous arrangement, tribal leaders say, essentially amounted to one nation telling another nation what to do on its land — a violation of sovereignty. Now, collaboration can happen through a proper government-to-government relationship.The Karuk Tribe estimates that, conservatively, its more than 120 villages would complete at least 7,000 burns each year before contact with European settlers. Some may have been as small as an individual pine tree or patch of tanoak trees. Other burns may have spanned dozens of acres.“When it comes to that ability to get out there and do frequent burning to basically survive as an indigenous community,” said Bill Tripp, director for the Karuk Tribe Natural Resource Department, “one: you don’t have major wildfire threats because everything around you is burned regularly. Two: Most of the plants and animals that we depend on in the ecosystem are actually fire-dependent species.” The Karuk Tribe’s ancestral territory extends along much of the Klamath River in what is now the Klamath National Forest, where its members have fished for salmon, hunted for deer and collected tanoak acorns for food for thousands of years. The tribe, whose language is distinct from that of all other California tribes, is currently the second largest in the state, having more than 3,600 members. Trees of life Early European explorers of California consistently described open, park-like woods dominated by oaks in areas where the forest transitions to a zone mainly of conifers such as pines, fir and cedar. The park-like woodlands were no accident. For thousands of years, Indigenous people have tended these woods. Oaks are regarded as a “tree of life” because of their many uses. Their acorns provide a nutritious food for people and animals. Indigenous people have used low-intensity fires to clear litter and underbrush and to nurture the oaks as productive orchards. Burning controls insects and promotes growth of culturally important plants and fungi among the oaks. Debris, brush and small trees consumed by low-intensity fire. Debris, brush and small trees consumed by low-intensity fire. This stewardship reduced the risk of devastating wildfires. Periodic clearing of underbrush and understory tree growth reduces ladder fuels that can channel flames into the treetops. Times reporting, USDA Paul Duginski LOS ANGELES TIMES The history of the government’s suppression of cultural burning is long and violent. In 1850, California passed a law that inflicted any fines or punishments a court found “proper” on cultural burn practitioners.In a 1918 letter to a forest supervisor, a district ranger in the Klamath National Forest — in the Karuk Tribe’s homeland — suggested that to stifle cultural burns, “the only sure way is to kill them off, every time you catch one sneaking around in the brush like a coyote, take a shot at him.”For Thompson, the new law is a step toward righting those wrongs.“I think SB 310 is part of that broader effort to correct those older laws that have caused harm, and really think through: How do we respect and support tribal sovereignty, respect and support traditional ecological knowledge, but also meet the climate and wildfire resiliency goals that we have as a state?” she said.The devastating 2020 fire year triggered a flurry of fire-related laws that aimed to increase the use of intentional fire on the landscape, including — for the first time — cultural burns.The laws granted cultural burns exemptions from the state’s environmental impact review process and created liability protections and funds for use in the rare event that an intentional burn grows out of control.“The generous interpretation of it is recognizing cultural burn practitioner knowledge,” said Becca Lucas Thomas, an ethnic studies lecturer at Cal Poly and cultural burn practitioner with the yak titʸu titʸu yak tiłhini Northern Chumash Tribe of San Luis Obispo County and Region. “In trying to get more fire on the ground for wildfire prevention, it’s important that we make sure that we have practitioners who are actually able to practice.”The new law, aimed at forming government-to-government relationships with Native tribes, can only allow federally recognized tribes to enter these new agreements. However, Thompson said it will not stop the agency from forming strong relationships with unrecognized tribes and respecting their sovereignty.“Cal Fire has provided a lot of technical assistance and resources and support for those non-federally recognized tribes to implement these burns,” said Thompson, “and we are all in and fully committed to continuing that work in partnership with the non-federally-recognized tribes.”Cal Fire has helped Lucas Thomas navigate the state’s imposed burn permit process to the point that she can now comfortably navigate the system on her own, and she said Cal Fire handles the tribe’s smoke permits. Last year, the tribe completed its first four cultural burns in over 150 years.“Cal Fire, their unit here, has been truly invested in the relationship and has really dedicated their resources to supporting us,” said Lucas Thomas, ”with their stated intention of, ‘we want you guys to be able to burn whenever you want, and you just give us a call and let us know what’s going on.’”

After suppression of Indigenous cultural burning, the state agrees Northern California's Karuk Tribe may practice the burns more freely than it has in over 175 years.

Northern California’s Karuk Tribe has for more than a century faced significant restrictions on cultural burning — the setting of intentional fires for both ceremonial and practical purposes, such as reducing brush to limit the risk of wildfires.

That changed this week, thanks to legislation championed by the tribe and passed by the state last year that allows federally recognized tribes in California to burn freely once they reach agreements with the California Natural Resources Agency and local air quality officials.

The tribe announced Thursday that it was the first to reach such an agreement with the agency.

“Karuk has been a national thought leader on cultural fire,” said Geneva E.B. Thompson, Natural Resources’ deputy secretary for tribal affairs. “So, it makes sense that they would be a natural first partner in this space because they have a really clear mission and core commitment to get this work done.”

In the past, cultural burn practitioners first needed to get a burn permit from the California Department of Forestry and Fire Protection, a department within the Natural Resources Agency, and a smoke permit from the local air district.

The law passed in September 2024, SB 310, allows the state government to, respectfully, “get out of the way” of tribes practicing cultural burns, said Thompson.

For the Karuk Tribe, Cal Fire will no longer hold regulatory or oversight authority over the burns and will instead act as a partner and consultant. The previous arrangement, tribal leaders say, essentially amounted to one nation telling another nation what to do on its land — a violation of sovereignty. Now, collaboration can happen through a proper government-to-government relationship.

The Karuk Tribe estimates that, conservatively, its more than 120 villages would complete at least 7,000 burns each year before contact with European settlers. Some may have been as small as an individual pine tree or patch of tanoak trees. Other burns may have spanned dozens of acres.

“When it comes to that ability to get out there and do frequent burning to basically survive as an indigenous community,” said Bill Tripp, director for the Karuk Tribe Natural Resource Department, “one: you don’t have major wildfire threats because everything around you is burned regularly. Two: Most of the plants and animals that we depend on in the ecosystem are actually fire-dependent species.”

The Karuk Tribe’s ancestral territory extends along much of the Klamath River in what is now the Klamath National Forest, where its members have fished for salmon, hunted for deer and collected tanoak acorns for food for thousands of years. The tribe, whose language is distinct from that of all other California tribes, is currently the second largest in the state, having more than 3,600 members.

Trees of life

Early European explorers of California consistently described open, park-like woods dominated by oaks in areas where the forest transitions to a zone mainly of conifers such as pines, fir and cedar.

The park-like woodlands were no accident. For thousands of years, Indigenous people have tended these woods. Oaks are regarded as a “tree of life” because of their many uses. Their acorns provide a nutritious food for people and animals.

Indigenous people have used low-intensity fires to clear litter and underbrush and to nurture the oaks as productive orchards. Burning controls insects and promotes growth of culturally important plants and fungi among the oaks.

Pencil illustration of a small fire on the forest floor burning up small shrubs

Debris, brush and small trees

consumed by low-intensity fire.

Pencil illustration of a small fire on the forest floor burning up small shrubs

Debris, brush and small trees consumed by low-intensity fire.

This stewardship reduced the risk of devastating wildfires. Periodic clearing of underbrush and understory tree growth reduces ladder fuels that can channel flames into the treetops.

Illustration of a parklike forest with space between the trees free of debris.

Times reporting, USDA

Paul Duginski LOS ANGELES TIMES

The history of the government’s suppression of cultural burning is long and violent. In 1850, California passed a law that inflicted any fines or punishments a court found “proper” on cultural burn practitioners.

In a 1918 letter to a forest supervisor, a district ranger in the Klamath National Forest — in the Karuk Tribe’s homeland — suggested that to stifle cultural burns, “the only sure way is to kill them off, every time you catch one sneaking around in the brush like a coyote, take a shot at him.”

For Thompson, the new law is a step toward righting those wrongs.

“I think SB 310 is part of that broader effort to correct those older laws that have caused harm, and really think through: How do we respect and support tribal sovereignty, respect and support traditional ecological knowledge, but also meet the climate and wildfire resiliency goals that we have as a state?” she said.

The devastating 2020 fire year triggered a flurry of fire-related laws that aimed to increase the use of intentional fire on the landscape, including — for the first time — cultural burns.

The laws granted cultural burns exemptions from the state’s environmental impact review process and created liability protections and funds for use in the rare event that an intentional burn grows out of control.

“The generous interpretation of it is recognizing cultural burn practitioner knowledge,” said Becca Lucas Thomas, an ethnic studies lecturer at Cal Poly and cultural burn practitioner with the yak titʸu titʸu yak tiłhini Northern Chumash Tribe of San Luis Obispo County and Region. “In trying to get more fire on the ground for wildfire prevention, it’s important that we make sure that we have practitioners who are actually able to practice.”

The new law, aimed at forming government-to-government relationships with Native tribes, can only allow federally recognized tribes to enter these new agreements. However, Thompson said it will not stop the agency from forming strong relationships with unrecognized tribes and respecting their sovereignty.

“Cal Fire has provided a lot of technical assistance and resources and support for those non-federally recognized tribes to implement these burns,” said Thompson, “and we are all in and fully committed to continuing that work in partnership with the non-federally-recognized tribes.”

Cal Fire has helped Lucas Thomas navigate the state’s imposed burn permit process to the point that she can now comfortably navigate the system on her own, and she said Cal Fire handles the tribe’s smoke permits. Last year, the tribe completed its first four cultural burns in over 150 years.

“Cal Fire, their unit here, has been truly invested in the relationship and has really dedicated their resources to supporting us,” said Lucas Thomas, ”with their stated intention of, ‘we want you guys to be able to burn whenever you want, and you just give us a call and let us know what’s going on.’”

Read the full story here.
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Protesters blockade Cop30 summit over plight of Indigenous peoples

Munduruku people demand to speak to Brazil’s president, saying they are never listened to• Cop30: click here for full Guardian coverage of the climate talks in BrazilProtesters blockaded the main entrance to the Cop30 climate conference for several hours early on Friday morning, demanding to speak to Brazil’s president about the plight of the country’s Indigenous peoples.About 50 people from the Munduruku people in the Amazon basin blocked the entrance with some assistance from international green groups, watched by a huge phalanx of riot police, soldiers and military vehicles. Continue reading...

Protesters blockaded the main entrance to the Cop30 climate conference for several hours early on Friday morning, demanding to speak to Brazil’s president about the plight of the country’s Indigenous peoples.About 50 people from the Munduruku people in the Amazon basin blocked the entrance with some assistance from international green groups, watched by a huge phalanx of riot police, soldiers and military vehicles.They hoped to speak to Lula da Silva to explain their grievances. “We demand the presence of President Lula, but unfortunately we are unable to do so, as always,” said one of the protesters. “We were always barred, we were never listened to.”Instead the group had to settle for André Corrêado Lago, the tall, amiable Cop president, who spent more than an hour listening and talking to the group’s representatives.Long queues formed outside the centre and delegates were diverted to a small side entrance. Eventually the activists relocated to a building to hold further discussions with Corrêa do Lago.These protests are just a small part of what is expected at the Belem summit. For the first time in four years the UN climate conference is being held in a democracy, and senior figures at the Cop30 conference centre have encouraged the presence of civil society groups.UN secretary-general António Guterres told the Guardian that Indigenous and other people’s organisations were needed to balance the power of corporate lobbyists, who have dominated recent summits. One in every 25 participants at this year’s summit is a fossil fuel lobbyist, according to an analysis by the Kick Big Polluters Out coalition, it emerged on Friday. Meanwhile Corrêa do Lago has said civil society will play an important role in raising the ambition of negotiators.That spirit pervades the conference and the meetings around it. For days, activists have flooded into Belém, many borne by boat along the Amazon River itself. On Wednesday, more than 100 vessels sailed in a protest flotilla up and down Guajará Bay close to the Federal University of Pará, which has become the venue for a “people’s summit” running alongside the main climate talks.On Saturday two inflatable serpents representing the spirit of resistance at Cop30 will be carried along the streets of the city, as thousands of Indigenous and other civil society activists remind jetsetting delegates where this Cop is taking place: the Amazon, the global frontline of environmental destruction and forest defence.Activists argue that at best Cop climate summits are a forum where the concerns of the developing world can be expressed in the full glare of media attention and relayed back to civil society in the global north.More than four events a day are being organised, ranging from protests against agribusinesses, transport projects and mining operations, to rallies for Palestine, health, women’s rights and Indigenous land demarcation. One demand that has emerged from civil society groups this year is a call for a new formalised body, the so-called Belém Action Mechanism (Bam), which would accelerate, coordinate and support a “just transition” towards a low-carbon economy and “orient the entire international system behind people-centred transitions at local and national levels, where workers and communities are in charge of decisions that affect their lives and livelihoods”, according to the Climate Action Network.The vast majority of events have been peaceful and some joyous, including a performance by the celebrated Brazilian musician Gilberto Gil.“What we are excited about in Brazil is that this country has a culture and a history of mass movements which really push political decisions for social change,” said Kudakwashe Manjonjo, who is an adviser for Power Shift Africa and part of the Climate Action Network.“We will be part of all the demonstrations that are happening both in and outside the conference to push for climate finance, just transition and support for adaptation …The global south is mass-led. The Cop coming to Brazil has shown that spirit. We have seen Indigenous people becoming part of the process in a way that just isn’t possible in the global north.”Louiza Salek, with the working group on Indigenous food sovereignty, said it was good to be part of the fight. She was singing “Bam Bam Bam Bam” to the tune of La Bamba with dozens of others in the hallway of the Cop to draw attention to the Belém Action Network, which wants leaders to step up their climate actions. “After three Cops with absolutely no demonstrations allowed, I feel like people want to be heard. We are all together and mobilising. We are in a democratic country where we can take actions. And this feels good. We need to be together collectively.”Inside the conference halls negotiations continued. On Thursday the official negotiating hours were extended to 9pm in order to deal with the four particularly thorny issues on which the presidency is taking special consultation. These are focused around finance, trade, emissions-cutting pledges and transparency. A similar extension was expected on Friday night, but in practice, talks could go on much later as Brazil strives to achieve progress in the consultations ahead of a stocktake session on Saturday.

Brazil's COP30 Resumes After Security Clashes With Indigenous Protesters

By William James, Leonardo Benassatto and Simon JessopBELEM, Brazil (Reuters) -A day after Indigenous protesters stormed Brazil's COP30 climate...

By William James, Leonardo Benassatto and Simon JessopBELEM, Brazil (Reuters) -A day after Indigenous protesters stormed Brazil's COP30 climate summit, country delegates returned to negotiating actions, policies and financing for tackling climate change with an air of calm.The reopening had been slightly delayed for repairs to damage at the entrance from the previous night's clash, in which the U.N. said two security guards sustained minor injuries, but there were minimal changes to the airport-style baggage checks.Outside, two Brazilian navy vessels escorted a protest flotilla carrying Indigenous leaders and environmental activists around Belem's Guajara Bay. Participants held signs saying "Save the Amazon" or calling for land rights and hundreds of people - including Indigenous leaders, the Amazon city's residents and COP delegates - crowded the waterfront to watch.The talks are taking place behind closed doors, but the Brazilian presidency has scheduled a public 'stocktaking' session later on Wednesday at which delegates can express their concerns around issues such as carbon taxes and finance for countries affected most by warming.AL GORE TO ADDRESS THE SUMMITFormer U.S. Vice President Al Gore delivered his annual climate presentation to the summit - which the United States has snubbed this year, despite being the world's biggest historical polluter since the Industrial Revolution.After listing a string of recent extreme weather events across the world, from flooding to fires, Gore said: "How long are we going to stand by and keep turning the thermostat up so that these kinds of events get even worse?"The brief, dramatic clash on Tuesday night underlined the tension at this year's meeting, where President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva has highlighted native peoples as key voices in deciding the world's future and how forests are managed.Indigenous groups from across Latin America sent representatives, with demands for an end to logging, mining, farming and fossil fuel extraction in the forest, which plays a vital role in soaking up carbon emissions.Some delegates were unsurprised by the melee."It's unfortunate that they went too far. But protest is what moves things along, in my mind," said Jack Hurd, head of both the World Economic Forum's Earth System Agenda and the Tropical Forest Alliance.'THE AMAZON IS AT A TIPPING POINT'Among the 195 governments taking part, many have expressed concern about a splintering in global consensus around climate action -- and have taken aim at the United States.Indigenous leaders have said they are aghast at the ongoing industry and development in the Amazon.A group representing Brazil's Indigenous communities said it was not responsible for organizing Tuesday's protest, but supported the "autonomy of all peoples to express themselves freely and democratically, without any form of paternalism - the kind that the State imposed on us for so many years.""We are here to keep demanding real commitments and to reaffirm that the answer is us," the Articulation of Indigenous Peoples of Brazil said in a statement.The world's governments have so far failed to do enough to limit global warming increasing beyond 1.5 degrees Celsius above the preindustrial average -- the threshold at which scientists say we could unleash catastrophic extremes.Last month, scientists warned that the Amazon rainforest could begin to die back and transform into a different ecosystem, such as a savannah, if rapid deforestation continues as the global average temperature crosses 1.5C. It is predicted to do so around 2030, earlier than previously estimated.Environmental activists praised the decision to hold COP30 near the rainforest."We are actually bringing climate negotiators and climate leaders to the heart of the forest to experience firsthand what it is to live here, remembering that the Amazon is at tipping point and that the population here are suffering," Greenpeace Brazil's executive director, Carolina Pasquali, told Reuters.(Reporting by William James, Leonardo Benassato and Simon Jessop in Belem, Brazil; Writing by Katy Daigle; Editing by Philippa Fletcher)Copyright 2025 Thomson Reuters.

‘We are not here for theater’: Can the ‘most Indigenous COP’ live up to the hype?

Brazil’s push to spotlight Indigenous voices at COP30 could redefine what inclusion looks like — or expose how shallow it’s been.

The United Nations-sponsored climate negotiations begin this week. Known as COP30, this year’s conference marks the 10th anniversary of the Paris Agreement and will be the first ever held in the Amazon. It is also being marketed as the most Indigenous of COPs. As the host country, Brazil is taking the lead to provide camping sites for up to 3,000 people, credentials for hundreds to enter the official venue, and direct channels for Indigenous contributions and demands to be presided over by Brazil’s Minister of Indigenous People, Sonia Guajajara. Indigenous experts say that on paper, what Brazil is doing for Indigenous participation at COP is major progress. Whether those actions translate to influence will be the true test.  This, as 2024 became the hottest year on record, with global temperatures breaching the 1.5 degrees Celsius limit set by the Paris Agreement, global greenhouse gas emissions continuing to rise, and international experts projecting that extreme climate events like droughts, floods, and storms will be more frequent and intense. In Brazil, 46 percent of greenhouse gas emissions come from deforestation, primarily due to illegal practices like logging, farming, and ranching in the Amazon.  But Indigenous peoples in Brazil, and globally for that matter, continue to offer solutions. Indigenous territories in the Amazon are among the best preserved and in 2024, less than 1.5 percent of deforestation occurred inside demarcated lands, which are responsible for almost 60 percent of the forest’s carbon storage. That trend is seen across the planet with hundreds of studies showing positive ecological outcomes when Indigenous peoples are involved in land stewardship. Those positive impacts stem from their sovereignty over lands, posing potential threats to state and corporate interests.  Indigenous peoples have struggled to participate in previous COP summits. COPs are often viewed as some of the U.N.’s most democratic processes — signatory countries, regardless of size and power, get one vote each — but they are intergovernmental, so only national delegations get to negotiate, and wording of the final texts produced at the conference is their purview. That means Indigenous peoples are nonstate actors and have no formal role in the negotiations, despite the adoption of the U.N. Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous peoples, which determines that states must consult and collaborate on issues that concern Indigenous peoples.  Read Next Here are the 5 issues to watch at COP30 in Brazil Zoya Teirstein, Naveena Sadasivam, & Anita Hofschneider Then there are the labyrinthine power structures and acronyms inside the U.N. system. Nonstate actors at COP must be members of organizations accredited by the UNFCCC, the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change. The 2015 Paris Agreement established the Local Communities and Indigenous Peoples Platform to enable participation in U.N. climate processes, and while the platform can amplify Indigenous perspectives, “it does not and cannot speak for Indigenous peoples, in negotiations,” said Ghazali Ohorella of the Alifuru people from the Maluku Islands and co-chair of the International Indigenous Peoples’ Forum on Climate Change, or IIPFCC, a representative caucus of Indigenous peoples participating in the UNFCCC. “We coordinate. We decide our lines. We push,” said Ohorella. The record for Indigenous participation at a COP was 316 people in 2023 when it was held in Dubai. Earlier this year, Minister Guajajara pledged to facilitate 1,000 UNFCCC credentials for Indigenous peoples, with half those reserved for Brazilians. But Ohorella said those credentials have failed to materialize. Guajajara’s Ministry of Indigenous People confirmed 360 Indigenous peoples had been given credentials but didn’t rule out the possibility of other organizations having arranged more by themselves.  But accreditation isn’t guaranteed to translate to meaningful participation. Opportunities to engage with negotiators are scarce, and the competition is cutthroat. “There are tens of thousands of other participants, many of whom are more experienced and better connected than you,” said Hayley Walker, a professor of international negotiation at the Institute of Scientific Economics and Management and co-researcher on a paper published earlier this year about access and participation of nonstate actors at COPs. Newcomers often struggle to navigate COP politics and end up leaving the process quickly. Even those with experience and know-how must go toe-to-toe with well-resourced fossil fuel, mining and agribusiness lobbyists who have flooded the previous two COPs.  Every five years, signatory states to the Paris Agreement are required to file climate action plans. This year is one of those years. Known as Nationally Determined Contributions, or NDCs, they are the treaty’s backbone embodying efforts by each country to reduce national emissions and adapt to the impacts of climate change. NDCs essentially shape global progress on the Paris Agreement’s long-term goals. Read Next 10 years after the Paris Agreement, countries are still missing climate deadlines Naveena Sadasivam Brazil’s latest NDC is the country’s first to mention Indigenous peoples. “It was an important political signal of the role they hold in the current administration,” says Claudio Angelo, international policy coordinator at the Brazilian climate policy coalition Observatório do Clima. However, he added that Indigenous peoples were not involved in drafting the text.  According to the international land and rights advocacy organization Rights and Resources Initiative, or RRI, that lack of participation tracks across all Latin American NDCs filed so far. A report by the organization published last week found that of the most recent round of NDCs, only Ecuador’s tags Indigenous territories as a climate strategy. The country is 1 of 6 that recognizes its sovereign land rights.  “References to Indigenous people were generic and unsupported by the necessary assurances,” said Carla Cardenas, Latin America program director at RRI. “All around, there was an evident lack of substance.” According to Alana Manchineri of the Manchineri peoples of Brazil and international adviser to the Coordination of Indigenous Organizations of the Brazilian Amazon, or COIAB, Brazil’s NDC fell well short of acknowledging Indigenous climate contributions and of proposing safeguards to continuously threatened territorial rights. Of the numerous studies on Indigenous land demarcation as a leading climate solution, a report released last week by the Environmental Defense Fund projects deforestation and CO2 emissions in the Amazon would be up to 45 percent higher without Indigenous-managed and protected lands. More than 370 million people around the world identify as Indigenous. They are the first line of defense, and targets, of climate change. Over centuries, Indigenous communities have survived and adapted to floods, heat waves, storms, and other climate events, developing strategies to cultivate drought-resilient crops, hurricane-enduring homes, and early warning systems for extreme weather.  “It all points to us and our territories as the solution,” said Juan Carlos Jintiach of the Ecuadorian Shuar people and executive secretary of the Global Alliance of Territorial Communities. “We have plenty of recommendations and proposals. In our lands lie our source of life, our stewardship, our future. Through time, we have learned to mitigate and adapt. We want to be part of the conversation.”  This year, COIAB’s Manchineri has been part of a team crafting the first ever Indigenous NDC. The document calls for culturally appropriate climate plans, an end to fossil fuels, direct access to climate finance, and meaningful representation in international negotiations. Above all, it urges land demarcation and territorial protection to be recognized as climate policy.  “We translated demands and proposals from the territories into the language of international conferences,” said Manchinei. She added that being at COP30 only makes sense if people back home, and on the ground, understand its importance. “Our authority as Indigenous leaders is anchored on the territories.” The Indigenous NDC will be hand-delivered to Brazilian national delegates to inform and influence negotiations. Read Next UN climate talks are built on consensus. That’s part of the problem. Joseph Winters Inspired by that, RRI is crafting a template for an open-access civil NDC that will allow other communities to do the same. “It will be a flexible structure that communities can tailor with national data, linking local indicators and strengthening the recognition of their territorial rights,” said RRI’s Carla Cardenas. Since these are not official government documents, they bear no formal weight in the COP framework. What they do, Cardenas said, is act as a catalyst for discussions.  “Inside the venue we do what works. Less podium. More hallways. Bilaterals with delegations. Coffee lines. Hallway chats. Ride the shuttle to the venue with the right person at the right time,” said Ghazali Ohorella of IIPFCC. “Do our demands get reflected? Sometimes yes, sometimes later, sometimes in pieces.” But unfamiliarity with UNFCCC’s intergovernmental nature and the narrative around this being the most Indigenous of COPs may sow frustration and widen the gap between expectations and actual opportunities to have influence over future climate goals.  According to Ghazalli Ohorella, if the goal of COP30 is more photo ops with Indigenous peoples, it will be a success. If it’s tangible impact, “the wiring is not finished.” The true measure, he said, is not who enters the venue, but what leaves in the final texts.  “We are not here for theater.” This story was originally published by Grist with the headline ‘We are not here for theater’: Can the ‘most Indigenous COP’ live up to the hype? on Nov 10, 2025.

From the Andes to the Amazon, Indigenous Leaders Bring Their Demands to COP30

By Karen Toro, Alexander Villegas and Valerie VolcoviciBELEM, Brazil (Reuters) -After journeying for weeks from a glacier in the Andes to Brazil’s...

By Karen Toro, Alexander Villegas and Valerie VolcoviciBELEM, Brazil (Reuters) -After journeying for weeks from a glacier in the Andes to Brazil’s tropical coast, a boat carrying dozens of Indigenous leaders landed in Belem a day ahead of the start of the United Nations' COP30 climate summit.Their main goal was demanding a greater say in how their territories are managed, as climate change escalates and industries including mining, oil drilling and logging press deeper into the forests."We want to achieve more than just guaranteeing money or financing,” said Lucia Ixchiu, an Indigenous K'iche from Guatemala who was among the 60 or so passengers. “We want to reach a consensus where Indigenous territories are no longer sacrificed.”"It's a dream and a goal, but we know there are many interests at play,” she told Reuters from aboard the boat as it was midway through the Brazilian part of the Amazon.A report last week by Earth Insight and the Global Alliance of Territorial Communities said that, in the one-third of the Amazon rainforest occupied by Indigenous or local communities, about 17% of those spaces now faced encroachment by oil and gas drilling, mining and logging concessions.Meanwhile, more than 1,690 environmental defenders were killed or disappeared between 2012 and 2024 in the nations that share the Amazon rainforest, Congo, Indonesia, Mexico and Central America, according to Global Witness."Not everything has to revolve around money, Mother Earth isn't a business,” Ixchiu said. "There are other ways of relating with biodiversity and life on the planet that Indigenous populations have been practicing for over 12,000 years."When Ixchiu joined the expedition, she was bundled in jackets and woolen chullo against the chill of Andean glacier ice. That look transformed with the warming weather to the airy purple-and-black short-sleeved blouse she wore upon landing to a scene of celebration on the banks of Belem. The group delivered an offering: candles, chants, sweets, seeds, coca leaves and a llama fetus. It was part of a ceremony to ask for permission while honoring deities and Mother Earth before setting off on the journey. The flotilla passengers - who had swapped boats along the way - celebrated with a banquet and caipirinhas.Ixchiu said they chose to start the journey from the headwaters of rivers feeding into the Amazon to highlight the dangers mountain glaciers are suffering from climate change and extraction.The Andes mountain range is the world's longest and holds over 99% of the world's tropical glaciers. Nearly half of the Amazon River's water comes from the Andes, which have lost between 30% and 50% of their glacier ice since the 1980s, according to the 2025 UN World Water Development Report.The group stopped along the way in Peru, Colombia and Brazil to highlight challenges facing different Amazonian communities.  In Coca, Ecuador, they held a funeral for fossil fuels. In Manaus, Brazil, they held a screening for short movies and workshops for communities.They also held a number of political discussions, and delayed the journey periodically due to logistical challenges and the river's changing conditions while observing the debris and pollution.While the group switched vessels periodically, they arrived in a three-story wooden boat that they nicknamed Yaku Mama, or Water Mother.Despite tensions in global geopolitics and the slow-moving pace of COP negotiations, Ixchiu said Indigenous youth who she traveled with for the 30-day journey left her feeling optimistic for the future. "I see the commitment they have for the defense of their territories," she said upon arrival in Belem. "This is the COP of the Amazon because we are here, demanding and taking the places that we deserve."(Reporting by Karen Toro with the expedition, Alexander Villegas in Santiago, Chile, and Valerie Volcovici in Belem, Brazil; Editing by Katy Daigle and Diane Craft)Copyright 2025 Thomson Reuters.

A Decade After Brazil’s Deadly Dam Collapse, Indigenous Peoples Demand Justice on the Eve of COP30

Ten years after Brazil’s worst environmental disaster, the Indigenous Krenak people are still mourning what they call “the death of the river.”

BOGOTA, Colombia (AP) — A week before what the Indigenous Krenak people now call “the death of the river,” they say they could feel it coming. The birds stopped singing, the air grew heavy, and an unusual silence settled over their village in Minas Gerais, a southeastern Brazilian state where forested hills give way to the winding Doce River.Then, on Nov. 5, 2015, the mud came.A mining dam owned by Samarco — a joint venture between Brazilian company Vale and Anglo-Australian giant BHP Billiton — burst upstream near the town of Mariana, unleashing a torrent of toxic iron ore waste. It buried the nearby community of Bento Rodrigues and swept down the Doce River valley, killing 19 people and contaminating waterways for nearly 600 kilometers (370 miles) before reaching the Atlantic Ocean.For the Krenak people, who once relied on the river for food, rituals, and daily life, the damage was not just environmental but spiritual. “It was the saddest day for my people,” said Shirley Djukurnã Krenak, an Indigenous leader whose community has lived for generations along the Doce River. “We felt the death of the river before it arrived.”The Mariana disaster poured an estimated 40 million tons of mining waste into the Doce basin, devastating one of Brazil’s most ancient river systems, whose valley has shaped the landscape of Minas Gerais for millions of years. Ten years later, reconstruction and reparations have dragged on through legal disputes, and the river remains contaminated by heavy metals. Local communities say little has changed, even as Brazil strives to define itself as a leader of global climate policy while hosting the United Nation’s COP30 climate summit — an event some are skeptical will bring change.“For us, the fight isn’t about speeches at COP,” Krenak said. “It’s about survival.” A test for Brazil’s climate credibility Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva now hopes to cement his reputation as a global environmental leader at COP30 in Belem, at the heart of the Amazon. Yet the unresolved legacy of Mariana and other recent policy moves reveal the distance between Brazil’s climate discourse and reality, according to Maurício Guetta, legal policy director at the advocacy group Avaaz.“It’s contradictory for a country that wants to lead on climate to keep approving laws that reduce protection for nature and Indigenous rights,” he said, adding that Indigenous territories are among the world’s most effective barriers against deforestation.Indigenous congresswoman Célia Xakriabá, who represents Minas Gerais, said the tragedy remains “a crime still in progress.”“The Doce River is still sick. The fish are contaminated, the people are ill, and children still ask when the river will be healed,” she said. “You can’t bring back 19 lives, and you can’t bring back a healthy river.”Xakriabá said the lack of justice for Mariana victims undermines Brazil’s credibility ahead of the summit.“It’s hard to talk about climate leadership when the state where this crime happened hasn’t even recovered,” she said. “True environmental policy starts with justice for those living the consequences.”After the 2015 collapse, the state of Minas Gerais weakened its environmental licensing laws — a move Guetta said directly contributed to the Brumadinho dam disaster in 2019, which killed 270 people.In October 2024, Brazil’s government and the states of Minas Gerais and Espirito Santo signed a 132 billion-reais ($23 billion) settlement with Samarco, the mine’s operator, and its owners, Vale and BHP, to fund social and environmental repairs. The record deal which will bring the total payment to 170 billion-reais ($30 billion) includes aid for affected communities, but critics say deeper flaws in Brazil’s environmental governance remain.“The Mariana disaster showed how fragile Brazil’s system of environmental control really is,” Guetta said. “Instead of learning from it, we’ve seen a process of deregulation.”Brazil’s Congress approved a law in 2023, which restricts Indigenous land claims, and this year passed what activists call the “devastation bill,” which would relax environmental licensing nationwide. Environmentalists warn both threaten to undermine the country’s own climate goals under the Paris Agreement, the 2015 global pact to curb greenhouse gas emissions and limit global warming. Now, Brazil’s Congress is also considering a national bill that would further loosen oversight of mining and industrial projects and “practically dismantle Brazil’s environmental licensing system,” Guetta said.He added that Brazil’s environmental agencies remain underfunded and understaffed, even as mining and agribusiness expand deeper into fragile ecosystems. Brazil's environment ministry did not respond to a request for comment. Skepticism over ‘Indigenous COP’ Krenak told The Associated Press that her community will not be attending COP30. She sees the climate summit as distant from the realities faced by Indigenous peoples and full of “greenwashing” and false promises. “If all the previous COPs had worked, we wouldn’t still be talking about crimes like this,” she said.Instead, she said, true climate action begins with protecting rivers and forests — and recognizing Indigenous territories. Anthropologist Ana Magdalena Hurtado, who has spent decades working with Indigenous communities in South America, said she shares that concern.“My worry is, this all looks very pretty, but the people who will walk away feeling wonderful are the urban academics and policymakers — not those living in remote territories,” said Hurtado, a professor of anthropology and global health at Arizona State University.She said dedicating space to Indigenous voices at COP30 is a welcome step, but warned that inclusion without follow-up can do more harm than good.As COP30 kicks off, many Indigenous leaders share that skepticism but remain hopeful.“I still believe change is possible," Krenak said. "That one day, our children will be able to drink a glass of water without fear of dying.”Associated Press writer Melina Walling contributed to this report from Chicago. The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Oct. 2025

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