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Death Threats and Detained Pop Stars: Inside Serbia’s Lithium Battle

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Thursday, September 19, 2024

On her way to sing at a birthday party last month, Croatian pop star Severina Vučković was stopped and questioned about her political views by Serbian authorities. Around the same time, Aleksandar Matković started receiving death threats on Telegram. The first was in Serbian: “We will follow you until you disappear, scum.” A subsequent text was written in what Matković—a Serbian academic at the Institute for Economics in Belgrade who studies Marxism and economic history—described to me as “garbled German.” Another showed that the sender was just over a quarter-mile from the home of a friend he was visiting on the Adriatic Coast. Around the same time, teams of police, armed with search warrants, showed up at the homes of five members of the environmental group Eko Straža (Eco Guard) and confiscated their cell phones and laptops.What do the pop star, the academic and the environmentalists have in common? Like the tens of thousands of people who’ve rallied across Serbia in recent weeks, they’ve all spoken out against the Anglo Australian mining firm Rio Tinto’s $2.4 billion plan to mine and process lithium in that country’s verdant Jadar Valley, near the town of Loznica. The company has said that the site could eventually produce 58,000 tons of lithium per day—enough to meet 90 percent of European lithium demand and power some one million electric vehicles. The Serbian government has eagerly backed the project. It’s also garnered the enthusiastic support of the European Union and the United States, which on Wednesday signed an agreement with Serbia for strategic cooperation in energy. The EU, especially, hopes it can help diversify a supply chain now heavily concentrated in China and secure the bloc easier access to a mineral that’s central to its electric vehicle–centric green industrial policy goals. Many Serbians, though—including those who’d live closest to the project—worry it will devastate the region’s agricultural production and poison the drinking water for millions. Critics argue it promises few upsides for either local residents or the majority of Serbians. Demonstrators want the project canceled. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened: After mass protests in 2022 shut down cities and railways, Serbia’s government revoked its approval of Rio Tinto’s plan for the Jadar Valley site in advance of federal elections that April, blocking further development. On July 11, 2024, Serbia’s Constitutional Court ruled that the decision was unconstitutional, laying the groundwork for the government to let Rio Tinto move forward. Alongside a new wave of protests has come a new, more intensive wave of repression. Once news broke that Severina had been stopped at the border—she was eventually allowed to pass—Serbian Interior Secretary Ivica Dačić said that she and other regional celebrities would be removed from “lists” of people whose public stances the government considers problematic. People who’ve participated in protests further report being questioned by police over Instagram posts, and might face criminal charges that could mean they spend years in prison. Rio Tinto is now attempting to have peer-reviewed research on the environmental impact of the Jadar project substantially changed or redacted, insisting—alongside high-ranking members of Serbia’s ruling party—that its authors are spreading “disinformation.” Bojan Simiśić is the founder of Eko Straža, although his home wasn’t among those searched by police in August. Members of that group are now waiting to see whether the government will build a case against them for calling for a “violent change in the constitutional order,” a felony charge. Such serious charges are a new development since the last round of protests, Simiśić says. “In 2021 there were police at my door. They came just to warn me” not to organize or participate in protests, he said. More often, demonstrators were issued tickets fining them around 50 euros for minor infractions. “Now they’re getting more aggressive,” Simiśić added. “It’s not just about the mine. We have to fight for basic liberties to protest.” In response, Simiśić helped organize a protest that drew tens of thousands of people to the grounds of state-run media outlet RTS on September 1, opposing the mine, the government’s treatment of protesters, and the silence around both from Serbia’s tightly controlled media environment. Serbian officials did not respond to multiple requests for comment on this story. At the end of last month, a website run by an “independent citizens’” group calling itself “Kopacemo” (We Will Dig) appeared, claiming to fight “misinformation.” The page features a registry of so-called “ecological terrorists,” including Matković and Simiśić. Profiles of several dozen alleged ecoterrorists feature stylized black and white pictures set against cyberpunk-ish green and black backgrounds. Descriptions list whether they’ve been arrested and take personal pot shots. Matković’s listing starts off by saying he “has a speech impediment and tics” and “can’t pronounce his Rs and Ls properly.” A profile for another anti-mining activist states that he “wears a bandanna over his head in a militant style,” which is “actually to cover the loss of his hair.” Vladimir Štimac, a former basketball player featured on the site, has now filed a criminal complaint against its anonymous creators. Though it’s still unclear who exactly is behind the site, the group did indicate on X that it would give power of attorney to fight Štimac’s charge to Vladimir Đukanović, a lawyer and member of the Serbian National Assembly with Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić’s’s ruling Serbian Progressive Party, or SNS. The powerful governments backing the Jadar Valley project have been relatively quiet about the protests against lithium development in Serbia; the government’s crackdown on dissent; and ominous, anonymous threats to mining critics. That may be because of just how anxious they are to unlock sources lithium, a critical component in the batteries that power electric vehicles, cell phones, and other technologies. The Eurozone’s largest economy, Germany, is facing persistently high levels of unemployment. Its industrial sector has struggled amid low demand and high interest rates. Since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Germany has been forced to grapple with its decades-long reliance on cheap Russian gas not just to heat homes but to make chemicals and cars too. Historically important automakers like Volkswagen and Mercedes-Benz owner Daimler are laying off thousands of workers as they adjust to sluggish European demand, foreign competition, and electrification. China’s somewhat chaotic quest to become a world-class E.V. manufacturer has started to bear fruit with juggernauts like BYD, which is now ably competing with U.S. and European E.V.s. America’s protectionist-minded investments in its own E.V. sector, though, have riled Europeans bound by their bloc’s strict spending and state aid rules, which largely prohibit the sorts of massive subsidies now flowing to U.S. automakers from the Inflation Reduction Act. To spur investment in its own green sector, the European Commission earlier this year passed the Critical Raw Materials Act, meant to build up the bloc’s supplies of and access to so-called critical minerals.Not much is known about the strategic cooperation agreement the United States and Serbia signed this week. Per remarks from Jose W. Fernandez—under secretary for economic growth, energy, and the environment—the agreement is meant to “expand opportunities for U.S. companies to invest in Serbia’s energy sector, including in green energy projects,” and will create a “level playing field” for U.S. companies that want to do business there. “This agreement represents a multiyear effort, involving the close attention of specialists from five U.S. agencies,” a State Department press release notes. “This commitment of resources reflects the U.S. Government’s strong support for U.S. investors and clean energy projects, as a means to drive a green transition and sustainable development.” Lithium isn’t mentioned in the official announcements put out by either country.The Serbian government, of course, has plenty to gain from Jadar’s lithium. The project is well aligned with Vučić’s quest to attract foreign direct investment to Serbia by any means necessary. As Matković noted in the op-ed that attracted the threats, foreign investment in Serbia’s mining sector increased sixfold between 2021 and 2023, jumping from $132 million to $784 million; Serbia’s gross domestic product, meanwhile, has stagnated. Not unlike U.S. cities’ bids to attract an Amazon headquarters, Serbians have found that courting big corporations often comes at a price: tax giveaways, weakened labor and environmental protections, and profits carried off to Frankfurt, New York, and the City of London. “I think Serbia has reached a plateau when it comes to the impact of foreign direct investment,” Matković said. “We subsidize the hell out of foreign companies without any budget limitations. The more we subsidize, the less money there is and the more we need to go out and get from foreign investors.” Vučić’s ruling SNS party has courted high rollers from geopolitical rivals in order to fuel that cycle, drawing investments from China, Russia, and the West even as those powers fight among themselves. Having gotten his start in politics on the far right before serving as Slobodon Milošević’s minister of information, Vučić has gradually moderated on certain fronts while consolidating control over Serbian media, state security forces, and his own party. Elections in Serbia are ostensibly competitive, yet the SNS has maintained virtual one-party control over Serbian politics and state institutions for over a decade. Though occasionally critical of Vučić’s ties to Putin—particularly since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine—EU and U.S. leaders have been willing to overlook some of the Vučić government’s more authoritarian tendencies as its lithium reserves become a more realistic, attractive prospect. That could open the door to Serbia’s long-awaited ascension to the EU.German Chancellor Olaf Sholz visited Serbia less than a week after Rio Tinto got its exploration license back. Alongside Vučić, Sholz oversaw the July 19 finalization of a memorandum of understanding between Serbia and the European Union. European Commission Vice President and Green Deal czar Maroš Šefčovič attended the summit, as well. So did representatives from the Mercedes-Benz and Stellantis European carmakers now working on their own agreements for access to Serbia’s lithium for their E.V.s. The EU-Serbia deal establishes a strategic partnership between the bloc and the Western Balkan Nation to co-develop value chains for raw materials, batteries, and electric vehicles, aimed (per the European Commission) at supporting “the development of new local industries and high-quality jobs along the electric vehicle value chain in full respect of high environmental and social standards while addressing the concerns of local communities with full transparency.”It’s not clear that the Rio Tinto mine is respecting “high environmental and social standards,” though. A peer-reviewed study published in July in Scientific Reports, a journal published by Nature, states that proposed lithium mining in the Jadar Valley could present “a constant threat of contamination” to local waterways and endanger the water supply for about 2.5 million people—roughly a third of the country. The study was based on an analysis of water, sediment, and soil samples collected from experimental drilling sites, deep mines, and the nearby Jadar and Korenita rivers—upstream, at, and downstream of the mine site where Rio Tinto has begun conducting exploratory activities. Researchers found that the water downstream from the site had a mineral fingerprint for arsenic, boron, and lithium that was “identical” to what they found in deep mine waters, explained Jovan M. Tadić, a co-author on the report and affiliate scientist at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory’s Climate Sciences Department. “Upon reaching the site, it was immediately apparent that something was wrong,” Tadić said, over email. “Plant growth around the drill sites was stunted, and the area was littered with unsightly concrete and steel structures left behind after the drillings.”The resource slated to be mined in the Jadar Valley is a unique mineral compound known as jadarite ore, found not long after Rio Tinto began exploring the area in 2004. Besides lithium, it contains “significant amounts of boron and arsenic, which will be, in some form, by-products of this mine. In our study, both were found to be leaking from the experimental drilling,” Tadić notes. The process for extracting lithium from jadarite is somewhat novel; a Rio Tinto patent for recovering valuable materials from jadarite—including lithium and boron—was just approved in August.In response to the Scientific Reports article, Rio Tinto’s chief scientist, Nigel Steward, sent a letter to the journal’s editors asking for the study—which underwent two rounds of peer review—to be “substantially changed” or redacted. Joining Steward were Aleksandar Jovović, Aleksadar Cvjetić and Nikola Lilić, all faculty at the University of Belgrade. All three were commissioned by Rio Tinto to create draft environmental impact assessments of the Jadar project; those assessments, undertaken voluntarily, are separate from those that the company will be legally required to conduct if the project advances. The company filed a request with Serbian regulators this week to begin establishing the scope and content of that environmental impact assessment. A spokesperson for Rio Tinto, Nikola Velickovic, noted over email that Rio Tinto “doesn’t have control” over the conclusions made by independent experts, and that covering the costs of such studies is standard practice for mining firms. She added that it “is not in the professional interest of the independent experts to be influenced in their analysis and conclusions, as that would damage their credibility.”Their complaints focused primarily on three areas: that authors overstated the size of the project area; that they didn’t establish baseline findings, from before drilling had started; and that they had ignored the possibility that the contamination observed in their samples could have come from another source. Tadić acknowledged the paper had one minor typo that was “completely irrelevant” to its conclusions, but sees the call for more substantive changes (or retraction) as “baseless.” While Rio Tinto defines the parameters of its operations as the mine site itself, Tadić and his colleagues analyzed the much larger entire area that would be “seriously affected by the mining operations, regardless of the nature of such operations. We used official numbers from the public and cited documents.” They collected samples upstream of mining operations as a means of getting around not having baseline samples from before drilling began. “We did not take samples before drilling began,” he said, “because we did not know where drilling would occur.” Scientific Reports did not respond to multiple requests for comment on this story. As of publication, no changes to the article have been made.Asked to respond to the claims in the Scientific Reports study, Chad Blewitt, managing director of the Jadar project, began by calling Ratko Ristić—one of the co-authors—an “aspiring politician.” He argued that the article was all a part of the “same disinformation” the company had been dealing with since 2021, referencing an article lead author Dragana Đorđević published that year. He directed me to Stewart’s letter to Scientific Reports and the draft environmental impact assessments commissioned by Rio Tinto. “There is a persistent campaign of disinformation from those two authors—I can’t speak to the other authors—against the project,” Blewitt said. Ristić, who is from Loznica, where the mine is based, did indeed run as the ultranationalist National Unity coalition’s Belgrade mayoral candidate in 2023. He’s also the dean of the University of Belgrade’s Faculty of Forestry, and has published over 130 research papers dealing with erosion control, land degradation, hydrology, and other water management topics. As the Serbian news outlet N1 pointed out, Đorđević—a professor at the University of Belgrade’s Center of Excellence in Environmental Chemistry and Engineering—has authored or co-authored more than 130 academic publications listed on the database ResearchGate. Rio Tinto head scientist Nigel Steward has just three.The University of Belgrade’s Faculty of Biology has publicly distanced itself from Rio Tinto’s draft environmental impact assessment. Department faculty were recruited by a consultant to do fieldwork at the Jadar site in 2020, the results of which were eventually integrated into the draft environmental impact assessment Rio Tinto released in June. The biologists found that the Jadar project would have an “extremely significant” impact on local biodiversity and that the measures the company proposed to mitigate those impacts were insufficient. They disassociated themselves from the resulting report, they wrote, over concerns about “inadequate and incorrect presentation” of key data, risk factors, proposals for protection measures and conclusions” in the published results of their study. Those were reviewed and edited by a Cambridge-based biodiversity consultancy, which the professors say is ultimately responsible for what went into the draft environmental impact assessment. Vučić called their warnings about the project “brutal lies.” In a statement to the press, Rio Tinto said it welcomed the faculty’s attempts at “clear and precise communication” about the Jadar project, though warned their statement could “mislead the public.”Blewitt repeatedly referred to a disinformation campaign throughout our conversation. “We have never seen a disinformation campaign like this anywhere in the world,” he told me, while saying the company has sought “common ground” via community engagement sessions with local residents during its time in Serbia. Asked where all that disinformation was coming from, Blewitt laughed and said, “You’re the reporter,” refusing to clarify who or what might be behind such a campaign. He denied that Rio Tinto had any involvement in the threats against Matković, Kopacemo, or the Serbian government’s treatment of mining critics.Governmental officials have similarly suggested opposition to the mine is part of a shadowy disinformation campaign. Vučić has frequently implied that outside forces are plotting to overthrow his government. He’s repeated that message in response to this most recent round of protests, accusing mining critics of attempting to carry out a “color revolution.” It’s a reference to the often Western-backed ousters of Eastern Bloc leaders, like the revolution that overthrew the Milošević government in which Vučić served. Assembly president and former Prime Minister Ana Brnabić has made similar claims, speculating that Rio Tinto detractors are receiving “financing” on the order of tens of millions of euros to carry out a “campaign of disinformation and a campaign of spreading lies and fake news with the aim of destabilizing Serbia.” Russia, in turn, which Vučić credited for his coup intel, has praised his government for “countering these attempts, in defending those principles that cause irritation in the West.”The U.S. ambassador to Serbia, Christopher Hill, has also recently stated publicly that opposition to lithium mining in Serbia is the result of disinformation—from Russia. “If you look carefully at some of these people out on the streets,” Hill said at a conference last week, “they were not Western environmentalists. They were Russia supporters.” Hill elaborated that demonstrations featured “people who were quite comfortable there defending Russia’s position in the world. And there they were out there protesting a lithium decision. What were they protesting? Are they so worried that Serbia may end up as a leader in electric vehicles? Is that what they were concerned about? Or were they concerned about something deeper? And I think what is going on is, to some extent, there is a counterattack against Serbia moving westward.”A spokesperson for Hill’s office declined to substantiate those claims on the record or respond to questions about crackdowns on peaceful protesters and the targeting of scientists. The State Department’s Assistant Secretary for Energy Resources Geoffrey Pyatt—who recently voiced his support for Rio Tinto’s plans on X—also declined to answer specific questions about the project, sending a more general statement over email. “The citizens of Serbia understandably want to see this project developed in a way that respects the highest environmental, social and governance standards,” Pyatt wrote. “Ultimately, the sovereign decision regarding the issue of lithium will be made by the Government of Serbia, with intensive dialogue with its citizens, scientists, environment and mining experts.” Like Hill, Pyatt suggested Russia has “instrumentalized protests to pursue its own agenda in Serbia, as it does around the globe.”Pundits and politicians friendly to the Russian government, including right-wing extremists, have attended protests and otherwise spoken out about their opposition to lithium mining in Serbia. Protest organizers were outraged, however, at the suggestion that tens of thousands of people around the country were being manipulated by shadowy outside forces. “That’s just pure propaganda,” said Bojana Novakovic, a Serbian Australian actress who’s been active in the anti-mining group Marš Sa Drine. “We have nothing to do with Russia. The fact that there are individuals at protests who might support Russia is just as irrelevant as the fact that there are people at protests who want to be part of the European Union.”A spokesperson for the European Commission, Johanna Bernsel, declined to respond directly to questions about the contents of the Scientific Reports study, Rio Tinto’s attempts to have it altered or redacted, and the repression faced by mining critics. “We are aware of the scientific discussions about the environmental effects of this project, discussions which include but are not limited to the study you mention,” Bernsel wrote in an email. “Whoever exploits any mine in the world in response to the global demand for critical raw materials should do it in a framework ensuring that the world’s highest environmental standards are applied.”What’s happening in Serbia isn’t an anomaly. The threats facing Serbian activists are in some cases less dire than what their counterparts elsewhere face regularly. A report released last week from the nonprofit Global Witness found that mining was “by far” the biggest driving force behind killings of environmental defenders. Of the 196 environmental defenders killed worldwide last year—actual numbers are likely far higher—25 were killed as a result of fights against mining and extraction projects; 23 of those killings were in Latin America. Neither is it historically uncommon for rich countries to stomach authoritarians and look the other way for the sake of cheaper raw materials. The only novelty now is that they’re doing so in the name of fighting climate change. Climate policies meant to reduce emissions as quickly as possible, though, would probably focus elsewhere: on expanding and improving less resource-intensive forms of mass transit, for instance, and reducing carbon-intensive sprawl and car dependence simultaneously. Lithium would be important in either case; it’s not wrong to want to diversify hyperconcentrated supply chains. But the U.S. and EU’s intense focus on electric vehicles suggests that they’re likely more interested in protecting their own legacy industries than the planet’s chances of flying past two, three, or four degrees Celsius of global warming.As temperatures rise, the climate crisis is inflicting damage farther and farther north. Richer places once thought to be insulated from the extreme weather are now grappling with inescapable wildfires, unbearable heat and uninsurable homes. How countries respond to that crisis will alter landscapes in other ways. “If this is normalized in the Balkans—an already shaky region—I’m not sure what the green transition is going to look like,” Matković tells me. Serbia is already a source of precarious, outsourced labor for Chinese and European companies. If the Rio Tinto project goes through there, activists fear Serbia will become a de facto resource colony of the EU’s wealthiest nations. And Serbia could be a preview, Matković worries, of what an uneven, too-slow energy transition has in store for many other less-developed countries peripheral to major powers and their climate plans: “a violent and escalating situation in which raw materials and minerals are extracted from the periphery so the middle classes in the U.S. can continue to exist in the twentieth century and have cars as a status symbol.”

On her way to sing at a birthday party last month, Croatian pop star Severina Vučković was stopped and questioned about her political views by Serbian authorities. Around the same time, Aleksandar Matković started receiving death threats on Telegram. The first was in Serbian: “We will follow you until you disappear, scum.” A subsequent text was written in what Matković—a Serbian academic at the Institute for Economics in Belgrade who studies Marxism and economic history—described to me as “garbled German.” Another showed that the sender was just over a quarter-mile from the home of a friend he was visiting on the Adriatic Coast. Around the same time, teams of police, armed with search warrants, showed up at the homes of five members of the environmental group Eko Straža (Eco Guard) and confiscated their cell phones and laptops.What do the pop star, the academic and the environmentalists have in common? Like the tens of thousands of people who’ve rallied across Serbia in recent weeks, they’ve all spoken out against the Anglo Australian mining firm Rio Tinto’s $2.4 billion plan to mine and process lithium in that country’s verdant Jadar Valley, near the town of Loznica. The company has said that the site could eventually produce 58,000 tons of lithium per day—enough to meet 90 percent of European lithium demand and power some one million electric vehicles. The Serbian government has eagerly backed the project. It’s also garnered the enthusiastic support of the European Union and the United States, which on Wednesday signed an agreement with Serbia for strategic cooperation in energy. The EU, especially, hopes it can help diversify a supply chain now heavily concentrated in China and secure the bloc easier access to a mineral that’s central to its electric vehicle–centric green industrial policy goals. Many Serbians, though—including those who’d live closest to the project—worry it will devastate the region’s agricultural production and poison the drinking water for millions. Critics argue it promises few upsides for either local residents or the majority of Serbians. Demonstrators want the project canceled. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened: After mass protests in 2022 shut down cities and railways, Serbia’s government revoked its approval of Rio Tinto’s plan for the Jadar Valley site in advance of federal elections that April, blocking further development. On July 11, 2024, Serbia’s Constitutional Court ruled that the decision was unconstitutional, laying the groundwork for the government to let Rio Tinto move forward. Alongside a new wave of protests has come a new, more intensive wave of repression. Once news broke that Severina had been stopped at the border—she was eventually allowed to pass—Serbian Interior Secretary Ivica Dačić said that she and other regional celebrities would be removed from “lists” of people whose public stances the government considers problematic. People who’ve participated in protests further report being questioned by police over Instagram posts, and might face criminal charges that could mean they spend years in prison. Rio Tinto is now attempting to have peer-reviewed research on the environmental impact of the Jadar project substantially changed or redacted, insisting—alongside high-ranking members of Serbia’s ruling party—that its authors are spreading “disinformation.” Bojan Simiśić is the founder of Eko Straža, although his home wasn’t among those searched by police in August. Members of that group are now waiting to see whether the government will build a case against them for calling for a “violent change in the constitutional order,” a felony charge. Such serious charges are a new development since the last round of protests, Simiśić says. “In 2021 there were police at my door. They came just to warn me” not to organize or participate in protests, he said. More often, demonstrators were issued tickets fining them around 50 euros for minor infractions. “Now they’re getting more aggressive,” Simiśić added. “It’s not just about the mine. We have to fight for basic liberties to protest.” In response, Simiśić helped organize a protest that drew tens of thousands of people to the grounds of state-run media outlet RTS on September 1, opposing the mine, the government’s treatment of protesters, and the silence around both from Serbia’s tightly controlled media environment. Serbian officials did not respond to multiple requests for comment on this story. At the end of last month, a website run by an “independent citizens’” group calling itself “Kopacemo” (We Will Dig) appeared, claiming to fight “misinformation.” The page features a registry of so-called “ecological terrorists,” including Matković and Simiśić. Profiles of several dozen alleged ecoterrorists feature stylized black and white pictures set against cyberpunk-ish green and black backgrounds. Descriptions list whether they’ve been arrested and take personal pot shots. Matković’s listing starts off by saying he “has a speech impediment and tics” and “can’t pronounce his Rs and Ls properly.” A profile for another anti-mining activist states that he “wears a bandanna over his head in a militant style,” which is “actually to cover the loss of his hair.” Vladimir Štimac, a former basketball player featured on the site, has now filed a criminal complaint against its anonymous creators. Though it’s still unclear who exactly is behind the site, the group did indicate on X that it would give power of attorney to fight Štimac’s charge to Vladimir Đukanović, a lawyer and member of the Serbian National Assembly with Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić’s’s ruling Serbian Progressive Party, or SNS. The powerful governments backing the Jadar Valley project have been relatively quiet about the protests against lithium development in Serbia; the government’s crackdown on dissent; and ominous, anonymous threats to mining critics. That may be because of just how anxious they are to unlock sources lithium, a critical component in the batteries that power electric vehicles, cell phones, and other technologies. The Eurozone’s largest economy, Germany, is facing persistently high levels of unemployment. Its industrial sector has struggled amid low demand and high interest rates. Since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Germany has been forced to grapple with its decades-long reliance on cheap Russian gas not just to heat homes but to make chemicals and cars too. Historically important automakers like Volkswagen and Mercedes-Benz owner Daimler are laying off thousands of workers as they adjust to sluggish European demand, foreign competition, and electrification. China’s somewhat chaotic quest to become a world-class E.V. manufacturer has started to bear fruit with juggernauts like BYD, which is now ably competing with U.S. and European E.V.s. America’s protectionist-minded investments in its own E.V. sector, though, have riled Europeans bound by their bloc’s strict spending and state aid rules, which largely prohibit the sorts of massive subsidies now flowing to U.S. automakers from the Inflation Reduction Act. To spur investment in its own green sector, the European Commission earlier this year passed the Critical Raw Materials Act, meant to build up the bloc’s supplies of and access to so-called critical minerals.Not much is known about the strategic cooperation agreement the United States and Serbia signed this week. Per remarks from Jose W. Fernandez—under secretary for economic growth, energy, and the environment—the agreement is meant to “expand opportunities for U.S. companies to invest in Serbia’s energy sector, including in green energy projects,” and will create a “level playing field” for U.S. companies that want to do business there. “This agreement represents a multiyear effort, involving the close attention of specialists from five U.S. agencies,” a State Department press release notes. “This commitment of resources reflects the U.S. Government’s strong support for U.S. investors and clean energy projects, as a means to drive a green transition and sustainable development.” Lithium isn’t mentioned in the official announcements put out by either country.The Serbian government, of course, has plenty to gain from Jadar’s lithium. The project is well aligned with Vučić’s quest to attract foreign direct investment to Serbia by any means necessary. As Matković noted in the op-ed that attracted the threats, foreign investment in Serbia’s mining sector increased sixfold between 2021 and 2023, jumping from $132 million to $784 million; Serbia’s gross domestic product, meanwhile, has stagnated. Not unlike U.S. cities’ bids to attract an Amazon headquarters, Serbians have found that courting big corporations often comes at a price: tax giveaways, weakened labor and environmental protections, and profits carried off to Frankfurt, New York, and the City of London. “I think Serbia has reached a plateau when it comes to the impact of foreign direct investment,” Matković said. “We subsidize the hell out of foreign companies without any budget limitations. The more we subsidize, the less money there is and the more we need to go out and get from foreign investors.” Vučić’s ruling SNS party has courted high rollers from geopolitical rivals in order to fuel that cycle, drawing investments from China, Russia, and the West even as those powers fight among themselves. Having gotten his start in politics on the far right before serving as Slobodon Milošević’s minister of information, Vučić has gradually moderated on certain fronts while consolidating control over Serbian media, state security forces, and his own party. Elections in Serbia are ostensibly competitive, yet the SNS has maintained virtual one-party control over Serbian politics and state institutions for over a decade. Though occasionally critical of Vučić’s ties to Putin—particularly since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine—EU and U.S. leaders have been willing to overlook some of the Vučić government’s more authoritarian tendencies as its lithium reserves become a more realistic, attractive prospect. That could open the door to Serbia’s long-awaited ascension to the EU.German Chancellor Olaf Sholz visited Serbia less than a week after Rio Tinto got its exploration license back. Alongside Vučić, Sholz oversaw the July 19 finalization of a memorandum of understanding between Serbia and the European Union. European Commission Vice President and Green Deal czar Maroš Šefčovič attended the summit, as well. So did representatives from the Mercedes-Benz and Stellantis European carmakers now working on their own agreements for access to Serbia’s lithium for their E.V.s. The EU-Serbia deal establishes a strategic partnership between the bloc and the Western Balkan Nation to co-develop value chains for raw materials, batteries, and electric vehicles, aimed (per the European Commission) at supporting “the development of new local industries and high-quality jobs along the electric vehicle value chain in full respect of high environmental and social standards while addressing the concerns of local communities with full transparency.”It’s not clear that the Rio Tinto mine is respecting “high environmental and social standards,” though. A peer-reviewed study published in July in Scientific Reports, a journal published by Nature, states that proposed lithium mining in the Jadar Valley could present “a constant threat of contamination” to local waterways and endanger the water supply for about 2.5 million people—roughly a third of the country. The study was based on an analysis of water, sediment, and soil samples collected from experimental drilling sites, deep mines, and the nearby Jadar and Korenita rivers—upstream, at, and downstream of the mine site where Rio Tinto has begun conducting exploratory activities. Researchers found that the water downstream from the site had a mineral fingerprint for arsenic, boron, and lithium that was “identical” to what they found in deep mine waters, explained Jovan M. Tadić, a co-author on the report and affiliate scientist at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory’s Climate Sciences Department. “Upon reaching the site, it was immediately apparent that something was wrong,” Tadić said, over email. “Plant growth around the drill sites was stunted, and the area was littered with unsightly concrete and steel structures left behind after the drillings.”The resource slated to be mined in the Jadar Valley is a unique mineral compound known as jadarite ore, found not long after Rio Tinto began exploring the area in 2004. Besides lithium, it contains “significant amounts of boron and arsenic, which will be, in some form, by-products of this mine. In our study, both were found to be leaking from the experimental drilling,” Tadić notes. The process for extracting lithium from jadarite is somewhat novel; a Rio Tinto patent for recovering valuable materials from jadarite—including lithium and boron—was just approved in August.In response to the Scientific Reports article, Rio Tinto’s chief scientist, Nigel Steward, sent a letter to the journal’s editors asking for the study—which underwent two rounds of peer review—to be “substantially changed” or redacted. Joining Steward were Aleksandar Jovović, Aleksadar Cvjetić and Nikola Lilić, all faculty at the University of Belgrade. All three were commissioned by Rio Tinto to create draft environmental impact assessments of the Jadar project; those assessments, undertaken voluntarily, are separate from those that the company will be legally required to conduct if the project advances. The company filed a request with Serbian regulators this week to begin establishing the scope and content of that environmental impact assessment. A spokesperson for Rio Tinto, Nikola Velickovic, noted over email that Rio Tinto “doesn’t have control” over the conclusions made by independent experts, and that covering the costs of such studies is standard practice for mining firms. She added that it “is not in the professional interest of the independent experts to be influenced in their analysis and conclusions, as that would damage their credibility.”Their complaints focused primarily on three areas: that authors overstated the size of the project area; that they didn’t establish baseline findings, from before drilling had started; and that they had ignored the possibility that the contamination observed in their samples could have come from another source. Tadić acknowledged the paper had one minor typo that was “completely irrelevant” to its conclusions, but sees the call for more substantive changes (or retraction) as “baseless.” While Rio Tinto defines the parameters of its operations as the mine site itself, Tadić and his colleagues analyzed the much larger entire area that would be “seriously affected by the mining operations, regardless of the nature of such operations. We used official numbers from the public and cited documents.” They collected samples upstream of mining operations as a means of getting around not having baseline samples from before drilling began. “We did not take samples before drilling began,” he said, “because we did not know where drilling would occur.” Scientific Reports did not respond to multiple requests for comment on this story. As of publication, no changes to the article have been made.Asked to respond to the claims in the Scientific Reports study, Chad Blewitt, managing director of the Jadar project, began by calling Ratko Ristić—one of the co-authors—an “aspiring politician.” He argued that the article was all a part of the “same disinformation” the company had been dealing with since 2021, referencing an article lead author Dragana Đorđević published that year. He directed me to Stewart’s letter to Scientific Reports and the draft environmental impact assessments commissioned by Rio Tinto. “There is a persistent campaign of disinformation from those two authors—I can’t speak to the other authors—against the project,” Blewitt said. Ristić, who is from Loznica, where the mine is based, did indeed run as the ultranationalist National Unity coalition’s Belgrade mayoral candidate in 2023. He’s also the dean of the University of Belgrade’s Faculty of Forestry, and has published over 130 research papers dealing with erosion control, land degradation, hydrology, and other water management topics. As the Serbian news outlet N1 pointed out, Đorđević—a professor at the University of Belgrade’s Center of Excellence in Environmental Chemistry and Engineering—has authored or co-authored more than 130 academic publications listed on the database ResearchGate. Rio Tinto head scientist Nigel Steward has just three.The University of Belgrade’s Faculty of Biology has publicly distanced itself from Rio Tinto’s draft environmental impact assessment. Department faculty were recruited by a consultant to do fieldwork at the Jadar site in 2020, the results of which were eventually integrated into the draft environmental impact assessment Rio Tinto released in June. The biologists found that the Jadar project would have an “extremely significant” impact on local biodiversity and that the measures the company proposed to mitigate those impacts were insufficient. They disassociated themselves from the resulting report, they wrote, over concerns about “inadequate and incorrect presentation” of key data, risk factors, proposals for protection measures and conclusions” in the published results of their study. Those were reviewed and edited by a Cambridge-based biodiversity consultancy, which the professors say is ultimately responsible for what went into the draft environmental impact assessment. Vučić called their warnings about the project “brutal lies.” In a statement to the press, Rio Tinto said it welcomed the faculty’s attempts at “clear and precise communication” about the Jadar project, though warned their statement could “mislead the public.”Blewitt repeatedly referred to a disinformation campaign throughout our conversation. “We have never seen a disinformation campaign like this anywhere in the world,” he told me, while saying the company has sought “common ground” via community engagement sessions with local residents during its time in Serbia. Asked where all that disinformation was coming from, Blewitt laughed and said, “You’re the reporter,” refusing to clarify who or what might be behind such a campaign. He denied that Rio Tinto had any involvement in the threats against Matković, Kopacemo, or the Serbian government’s treatment of mining critics.Governmental officials have similarly suggested opposition to the mine is part of a shadowy disinformation campaign. Vučić has frequently implied that outside forces are plotting to overthrow his government. He’s repeated that message in response to this most recent round of protests, accusing mining critics of attempting to carry out a “color revolution.” It’s a reference to the often Western-backed ousters of Eastern Bloc leaders, like the revolution that overthrew the Milošević government in which Vučić served. Assembly president and former Prime Minister Ana Brnabić has made similar claims, speculating that Rio Tinto detractors are receiving “financing” on the order of tens of millions of euros to carry out a “campaign of disinformation and a campaign of spreading lies and fake news with the aim of destabilizing Serbia.” Russia, in turn, which Vučić credited for his coup intel, has praised his government for “countering these attempts, in defending those principles that cause irritation in the West.”The U.S. ambassador to Serbia, Christopher Hill, has also recently stated publicly that opposition to lithium mining in Serbia is the result of disinformation—from Russia. “If you look carefully at some of these people out on the streets,” Hill said at a conference last week, “they were not Western environmentalists. They were Russia supporters.” Hill elaborated that demonstrations featured “people who were quite comfortable there defending Russia’s position in the world. And there they were out there protesting a lithium decision. What were they protesting? Are they so worried that Serbia may end up as a leader in electric vehicles? Is that what they were concerned about? Or were they concerned about something deeper? And I think what is going on is, to some extent, there is a counterattack against Serbia moving westward.”A spokesperson for Hill’s office declined to substantiate those claims on the record or respond to questions about crackdowns on peaceful protesters and the targeting of scientists. The State Department’s Assistant Secretary for Energy Resources Geoffrey Pyatt—who recently voiced his support for Rio Tinto’s plans on X—also declined to answer specific questions about the project, sending a more general statement over email. “The citizens of Serbia understandably want to see this project developed in a way that respects the highest environmental, social and governance standards,” Pyatt wrote. “Ultimately, the sovereign decision regarding the issue of lithium will be made by the Government of Serbia, with intensive dialogue with its citizens, scientists, environment and mining experts.” Like Hill, Pyatt suggested Russia has “instrumentalized protests to pursue its own agenda in Serbia, as it does around the globe.”Pundits and politicians friendly to the Russian government, including right-wing extremists, have attended protests and otherwise spoken out about their opposition to lithium mining in Serbia. Protest organizers were outraged, however, at the suggestion that tens of thousands of people around the country were being manipulated by shadowy outside forces. “That’s just pure propaganda,” said Bojana Novakovic, a Serbian Australian actress who’s been active in the anti-mining group Marš Sa Drine. “We have nothing to do with Russia. The fact that there are individuals at protests who might support Russia is just as irrelevant as the fact that there are people at protests who want to be part of the European Union.”A spokesperson for the European Commission, Johanna Bernsel, declined to respond directly to questions about the contents of the Scientific Reports study, Rio Tinto’s attempts to have it altered or redacted, and the repression faced by mining critics. “We are aware of the scientific discussions about the environmental effects of this project, discussions which include but are not limited to the study you mention,” Bernsel wrote in an email. “Whoever exploits any mine in the world in response to the global demand for critical raw materials should do it in a framework ensuring that the world’s highest environmental standards are applied.”What’s happening in Serbia isn’t an anomaly. The threats facing Serbian activists are in some cases less dire than what their counterparts elsewhere face regularly. A report released last week from the nonprofit Global Witness found that mining was “by far” the biggest driving force behind killings of environmental defenders. Of the 196 environmental defenders killed worldwide last year—actual numbers are likely far higher—25 were killed as a result of fights against mining and extraction projects; 23 of those killings were in Latin America. Neither is it historically uncommon for rich countries to stomach authoritarians and look the other way for the sake of cheaper raw materials. The only novelty now is that they’re doing so in the name of fighting climate change. Climate policies meant to reduce emissions as quickly as possible, though, would probably focus elsewhere: on expanding and improving less resource-intensive forms of mass transit, for instance, and reducing carbon-intensive sprawl and car dependence simultaneously. Lithium would be important in either case; it’s not wrong to want to diversify hyperconcentrated supply chains. But the U.S. and EU’s intense focus on electric vehicles suggests that they’re likely more interested in protecting their own legacy industries than the planet’s chances of flying past two, three, or four degrees Celsius of global warming.As temperatures rise, the climate crisis is inflicting damage farther and farther north. Richer places once thought to be insulated from the extreme weather are now grappling with inescapable wildfires, unbearable heat and uninsurable homes. How countries respond to that crisis will alter landscapes in other ways. “If this is normalized in the Balkans—an already shaky region—I’m not sure what the green transition is going to look like,” Matković tells me. Serbia is already a source of precarious, outsourced labor for Chinese and European companies. If the Rio Tinto project goes through there, activists fear Serbia will become a de facto resource colony of the EU’s wealthiest nations. And Serbia could be a preview, Matković worries, of what an uneven, too-slow energy transition has in store for many other less-developed countries peripheral to major powers and their climate plans: “a violent and escalating situation in which raw materials and minerals are extracted from the periphery so the middle classes in the U.S. can continue to exist in the twentieth century and have cars as a status symbol.”

On her way to sing at a birthday party last month, Croatian pop star Severina Vučković was stopped and questioned about her political views by Serbian authorities. Around the same time, Aleksandar Matković started receiving death threats on Telegram. The first was in Serbian: “We will follow you until you disappear, scum.” A subsequent text was written in what Matković—a Serbian academic at the Institute for Economics in Belgrade who studies Marxism and economic history—described to me as “garbled German.” Another showed that the sender was just over a quarter-mile from the home of a friend he was visiting on the Adriatic Coast. Around the same time, teams of police, armed with search warrants, showed up at the homes of five members of the environmental group Eko Straža (Eco Guard) and confiscated their cell phones and laptops.

What do the pop star, the academic and the environmentalists have in common? Like the tens of thousands of people who’ve rallied across Serbia in recent weeks, they’ve all spoken out against the Anglo Australian mining firm Rio Tinto’s $2.4 billion plan to mine and process lithium in that country’s verdant Jadar Valley, near the town of Loznica. The company has said that the site could eventually produce 58,000 tons of lithium per day—enough to meet 90 percent of European lithium demand and power some one million electric vehicles. The Serbian government has eagerly backed the project. It’s also garnered the enthusiastic support of the European Union and the United States, which on Wednesday signed an agreement with Serbia for strategic cooperation in energy. The EU, especially, hopes it can help diversify a supply chain now heavily concentrated in China and secure the bloc easier access to a mineral that’s central to its electric vehicle–centric green industrial policy goals.

Many Serbians, though—including those who’d live closest to the project—worry it will devastate the region’s agricultural production and poison the drinking water for millions. Critics argue it promises few upsides for either local residents or the majority of Serbians. Demonstrators want the project canceled. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened: After mass protests in 2022 shut down cities and railways, Serbia’s government revoked its approval of Rio Tinto’s plan for the Jadar Valley site in advance of federal elections that April, blocking further development. On July 11, 2024, Serbia’s Constitutional Court ruled that the decision was unconstitutional, laying the groundwork for the government to let Rio Tinto move forward.

Alongside a new wave of protests has come a new, more intensive wave of repression. Once news broke that Severina had been stopped at the border—she was eventually allowed to pass—Serbian Interior Secretary Ivica Dačić said that she and other regional celebrities would be removed from “lists” of people whose public stances the government considers problematic. People who’ve participated in protests further report being questioned by police over Instagram posts, and might face criminal charges that could mean they spend years in prison. Rio Tinto is now attempting to have peer-reviewed research on the environmental impact of the Jadar project substantially changed or redacted, insisting—alongside high-ranking members of Serbia’s ruling party—that its authors are spreading “disinformation.”

Bojan Simiśić is the founder of Eko Straža, although his home wasn’t among those searched by police in August. Members of that group are now waiting to see whether the government will build a case against them for calling for a “violent change in the constitutional order,” a felony charge. Such serious charges are a new development since the last round of protests, Simiśić says. “In 2021 there were police at my door. They came just to warn me” not to organize or participate in protests, he said. More often, demonstrators were issued tickets fining them around 50 euros for minor infractions. “Now they’re getting more aggressive,” Simiśić added. “It’s not just about the mine. We have to fight for basic liberties to protest.” In response, Simiśić helped organize a protest that drew tens of thousands of people to the grounds of state-run media outlet RTS on September 1, opposing the mine, the government’s treatment of protesters, and the silence around both from Serbia’s tightly controlled media environment. Serbian officials did not respond to multiple requests for comment on this story.

At the end of last month, a website run by an “independent citizens’” group calling itself “Kopacemo” (We Will Dig) appeared, claiming to fight “misinformation.” The page features a registry of so-called “ecological terrorists,” including Matković and Simiśić. Profiles of several dozen alleged ecoterrorists feature stylized black and white pictures set against cyberpunk-ish green and black backgrounds. Descriptions list whether they’ve been arrested and take personal pot shots. Matković’s listing starts off by saying he “has a speech impediment and tics” and “can’t pronounce his Rs and Ls properly.” A profile for another anti-mining activist states that he “wears a bandanna over his head in a militant style,” which is “actually to cover the loss of his hair.” Vladimir Štimac, a former basketball player featured on the site, has now filed a criminal complaint against its anonymous creators. Though it’s still unclear who exactly is behind the site, the group did indicate on X that it would give power of attorney to fight Štimac’s charge to Vladimir Đukanović, a lawyer and member of the Serbian National Assembly with Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić’s’s ruling Serbian Progressive Party, or SNS.


The powerful governments backing the Jadar Valley project have been relatively quiet about the protests against lithium development in Serbia; the government’s crackdown on dissent; and ominous, anonymous threats to mining critics. That may be because of just how anxious they are to unlock sources lithium, a critical component in the batteries that power electric vehicles, cell phones, and other technologies. The Eurozone’s largest economy, Germany, is facing persistently high levels of unemployment. Its industrial sector has struggled amid low demand and high interest rates.

Since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Germany has been forced to grapple with its decades-long reliance on cheap Russian gas not just to heat homes but to make chemicals and cars too. Historically important automakers like Volkswagen and Mercedes-Benz owner Daimler are laying off thousands of workers as they adjust to sluggish European demand, foreign competition, and electrification. China’s somewhat chaotic quest to become a world-class E.V. manufacturer has started to bear fruit with juggernauts like BYD, which is now ably competing with U.S. and European E.V.s. America’s protectionist-minded investments in its own E.V. sector, though, have riled Europeans bound by their bloc’s strict spending and state aid rules, which largely prohibit the sorts of massive subsidies now flowing to U.S. automakers from the Inflation Reduction Act. To spur investment in its own green sector, the European Commission earlier this year passed the Critical Raw Materials Act, meant to build up the bloc’s supplies of and access to so-called critical minerals.

Not much is known about the strategic cooperation agreement the United States and Serbia signed this week. Per remarks from Jose W. Fernandez—under secretary for economic growth, energy, and the environment—the agreement is meant to “expand opportunities for U.S. companies to invest in Serbia’s energy sector, including in green energy projects,” and will create a “level playing field” for U.S. companies that want to do business there. “This agreement represents a multiyear effort, involving the close attention of specialists from five U.S. agencies,” a State Department press release notes. “This commitment of resources reflects the U.S. Government’s strong support for U.S. investors and clean energy projects, as a means to drive a green transition and sustainable development.” Lithium isn’t mentioned in the official announcements put out by either country.

The Serbian government, of course, has plenty to gain from Jadar’s lithium. The project is well aligned with Vučić’s quest to attract foreign direct investment to Serbia by any means necessary. As Matković noted in the op-ed that attracted the threats, foreign investment in Serbia’s mining sector increased sixfold between 2021 and 2023, jumping from $132 million to $784 million; Serbia’s gross domestic product, meanwhile, has stagnated.

Not unlike U.S. cities’ bids to attract an Amazon headquarters, Serbians have found that courting big corporations often comes at a price: tax giveaways, weakened labor and environmental protections, and profits carried off to Frankfurt, New York, and the City of London. “I think Serbia has reached a plateau when it comes to the impact of foreign direct investment,” Matković said. “We subsidize the hell out of foreign companies without any budget limitations. The more we subsidize, the less money there is and the more we need to go out and get from foreign investors.” Vučić’s ruling SNS party has courted high rollers from geopolitical rivals in order to fuel that cycle, drawing investments from China, Russia, and the West even as those powers fight among themselves.

Having gotten his start in politics on the far right before serving as Slobodon Milošević’s minister of information, Vučić has gradually moderated on certain fronts while consolidating control over Serbian media, state security forces, and his own party. Elections in Serbia are ostensibly competitive, yet the SNS has maintained virtual one-party control over Serbian politics and state institutions for over a decade. Though occasionally critical of Vučić’s ties to Putin—particularly since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine—EU and U.S. leaders have been willing to overlook some of the Vučić government’s more authoritarian tendencies as its lithium reserves become a more realistic, attractive prospect. That could open the door to Serbia’s long-awaited ascension to the EU.

German Chancellor Olaf Sholz visited Serbia less than a week after Rio Tinto got its exploration license back. Alongside Vučić, Sholz oversaw the July 19 finalization of a memorandum of understanding between Serbia and the European Union. European Commission Vice President and Green Deal czar Maroš Šefčovič attended the summit, as well. So did representatives from the Mercedes-Benz and Stellantis European carmakers now working on their own agreements for access to Serbia’s lithium for their E.V.s. The EU-Serbia deal establishes a strategic partnership between the bloc and the Western Balkan Nation to co-develop value chains for raw materials, batteries, and electric vehicles, aimed (per the European Commission) at supporting “the development of new local industries and high-quality jobs along the electric vehicle value chain in full respect of high environmental and social standards while addressing the concerns of local communities with full transparency.”


It’s not clear that the Rio Tinto mine is respecting “high environmental and social standards,” though. A peer-reviewed study published in July in Scientific Reports, a journal published by Nature, states that proposed lithium mining in the Jadar Valley could present “a constant threat of contamination” to local waterways and endanger the water supply for about 2.5 million people—roughly a third of the country. The study was based on an analysis of water, sediment, and soil samples collected from experimental drilling sites, deep mines, and the nearby Jadar and Korenita rivers—upstream, at, and downstream of the mine site where Rio Tinto has begun conducting exploratory activities.

Researchers found that the water downstream from the site had a mineral fingerprint for arsenic, boron, and lithium that was “identical” to what they found in deep mine waters, explained Jovan M. Tadić, a co-author on the report and affiliate scientist at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory’s Climate Sciences Department. “Upon reaching the site, it was immediately apparent that something was wrong,” Tadić said, over email. “Plant growth around the drill sites was stunted, and the area was littered with unsightly concrete and steel structures left behind after the drillings.”

The resource slated to be mined in the Jadar Valley is a unique mineral compound known as jadarite ore, found not long after Rio Tinto began exploring the area in 2004. Besides lithium, it contains “significant amounts of boron and arsenic, which will be, in some form, by-products of this mine. In our study, both were found to be leaking from the experimental drilling,” Tadić notes. The process for extracting lithium from jadarite is somewhat novel; a Rio Tinto patent for recovering valuable materials from jadarite—including lithium and boron—was just approved in August.

A person wearing a "Rio Tinto" helmet and orange vest examines trays of a grey mineral.

In response to the Scientific Reports article, Rio Tinto’s chief scientist, Nigel Steward, sent a letter to the journal’s editors asking for the study—which underwent two rounds of peer review—to be “substantially changed” or redacted. Joining Steward were Aleksandar Jovović, Aleksadar Cvjetić and Nikola Lilić, all faculty at the University of Belgrade. All three were commissioned by Rio Tinto to create draft environmental impact assessments of the Jadar project; those assessments, undertaken voluntarily, are separate from those that the company will be legally required to conduct if the project advances. The company filed a request with Serbian regulators this week to begin establishing the scope and content of that environmental impact assessment. A spokesperson for Rio Tinto, Nikola Velickovic, noted over email that Rio Tinto “doesn’t have control” over the conclusions made by independent experts, and that covering the costs of such studies is standard practice for mining firms. She added that it “is not in the professional interest of the independent experts to be influenced in their analysis and conclusions, as that would damage their credibility.”

Their complaints focused primarily on three areas: that authors overstated the size of the project area; that they didn’t establish baseline findings, from before drilling had started; and that they had ignored the possibility that the contamination observed in their samples could have come from another source. Tadić acknowledged the paper had one minor typo that was “completely irrelevant” to its conclusions, but sees the call for more substantive changes (or retraction) as “baseless.” While Rio Tinto defines the parameters of its operations as the mine site itself, Tadić and his colleagues analyzed the much larger entire area that would be “seriously affected by the mining operations, regardless of the nature of such operations. We used official numbers from the public and cited documents.” They collected samples upstream of mining operations as a means of getting around not having baseline samples from before drilling began. “We did not take samples before drilling began,” he said, “because we did not know where drilling would occur.” Scientific Reports did not respond to multiple requests for comment on this story. As of publication, no changes to the article have been made.

Asked to respond to the claims in the Scientific Reports study, Chad Blewitt, managing director of the Jadar project, began by calling Ratko Ristić—one of the co-authors—an “aspiring politician.” He argued that the article was all a part of the “same disinformation” the company had been dealing with since 2021, referencing an article lead author Dragana Đorđević published that year. He directed me to Stewart’s letter to Scientific Reports and the draft environmental impact assessments commissioned by Rio Tinto. “There is a persistent campaign of disinformation from those two authors—I can’t speak to the other authors—against the project,” Blewitt said.

Ristić, who is from Loznica, where the mine is based, did indeed run as the ultranationalist National Unity coalition’s Belgrade mayoral candidate in 2023. He’s also the dean of the University of Belgrade’s Faculty of Forestry, and has published over 130 research papers dealing with erosion control, land degradation, hydrology, and other water management topics. As the Serbian news outlet N1 pointed out, Đorđević—a professor at the University of Belgrade’s Center of Excellence in Environmental Chemistry and Engineering—has authored or co-authored more than 130 academic publications listed on the database ResearchGate. Rio Tinto head scientist Nigel Steward has just three.

The University of Belgrade’s Faculty of Biology has publicly distanced itself from Rio Tinto’s draft environmental impact assessment. Department faculty were recruited by a consultant to do fieldwork at the Jadar site in 2020, the results of which were eventually integrated into the draft environmental impact assessment Rio Tinto released in June. The biologists found that the Jadar project would have an “extremely significant” impact on local biodiversity and that the measures the company proposed to mitigate those impacts were insufficient. They disassociated themselves from the resulting report, they wrote, over concerns about “inadequate and incorrect presentation” of key data, risk factors, proposals for protection measures and conclusions” in the published results of their study. Those were reviewed and edited by a Cambridge-based biodiversity consultancy, which the professors say is ultimately responsible for what went into the draft environmental impact assessment. Vučić called their warnings about the project “brutal lies.” In a statement to the press, Rio Tinto said it welcomed the faculty’s attempts at “clear and precise communication” about the Jadar project, though warned their statement could “mislead the public.”

Blewitt repeatedly referred to a disinformation campaign throughout our conversation. “We have never seen a disinformation campaign like this anywhere in the world,” he told me, while saying the company has sought “common ground” via community engagement sessions with local residents during its time in Serbia. Asked where all that disinformation was coming from, Blewitt laughed and said, “You’re the reporter,” refusing to clarify who or what might be behind such a campaign. He denied that Rio Tinto had any involvement in the threats against Matković, Kopacemo, or the Serbian government’s treatment of mining critics.


Governmental officials have similarly suggested opposition to the mine is part of a shadowy disinformation campaign. Vučić has frequently implied that outside forces are plotting to overthrow his government. He’s repeated that message in response to this most recent round of protests, accusing mining critics of attempting to carry out a “color revolution.” It’s a reference to the often Western-backed ousters of Eastern Bloc leaders, like the revolution that overthrew the Milošević government in which Vučić served. Assembly president and former Prime Minister Ana Brnabić has made similar claims, speculating that Rio Tinto detractors are receiving “financing” on the order of tens of millions of euros to carry out a “campaign of disinformation and a campaign of spreading lies and fake news with the aim of destabilizing Serbia.” Russia, in turn, which Vučić credited for his coup intel, has praised his government for “countering these attempts, in defending those principles that cause irritation in the West.”

The U.S. ambassador to Serbia, Christopher Hill, has also recently stated publicly that opposition to lithium mining in Serbia is the result of disinformation—from Russia. “If you look carefully at some of these people out on the streets,” Hill said at a conference last week, “they were not Western environmentalists. They were Russia supporters.” Hill elaborated that demonstrations featured “people who were quite comfortable there defending Russia’s position in the world. And there they were out there protesting a lithium decision. What were they protesting? Are they so worried that Serbia may end up as a leader in electric vehicles? Is that what they were concerned about? Or were they concerned about something deeper? And I think what is going on is, to some extent, there is a counterattack against Serbia moving westward.”

A spokesperson for Hill’s office declined to substantiate those claims on the record or respond to questions about crackdowns on peaceful protesters and the targeting of scientists. The State Department’s Assistant Secretary for Energy Resources Geoffrey Pyatt—who recently voiced his support for Rio Tinto’s plans on X—also declined to answer specific questions about the project, sending a more general statement over email. “The citizens of Serbia understandably want to see this project developed in a way that respects the highest environmental, social and governance standards,” Pyatt wrote. “Ultimately, the sovereign decision regarding the issue of lithium will be made by the Government of Serbia, with intensive dialogue with its citizens, scientists, environment and mining experts.” Like Hill, Pyatt suggested Russia has “instrumentalized protests to pursue its own agenda in Serbia, as it does around the globe.”

Pundits and politicians friendly to the Russian government, including right-wing extremists, have attended protests and otherwise spoken out about their opposition to lithium mining in Serbia. Protest organizers were outraged, however, at the suggestion that tens of thousands of people around the country were being manipulated by shadowy outside forces. “That’s just pure propaganda,” said Bojana Novakovic, a Serbian Australian actress who’s been active in the anti-mining group Marš Sa Drine. “We have nothing to do with Russia. The fact that there are individuals at protests who might support Russia is just as irrelevant as the fact that there are people at protests who want to be part of the European Union.”

A spokesperson for the European Commission, Johanna Bernsel, declined to respond directly to questions about the contents of the Scientific Reports study, Rio Tinto’s attempts to have it altered or redacted, and the repression faced by mining critics. “We are aware of the scientific discussions about the environmental effects of this project, discussions which include but are not limited to the study you mention,” Bernsel wrote in an email. “Whoever exploits any mine in the world in response to the global demand for critical raw materials should do it in a framework ensuring that the world’s highest environmental standards are applied.”


What’s happening in Serbia isn’t an anomaly. The threats facing Serbian activists are in some cases less dire than what their counterparts elsewhere face regularly. A report released last week from the nonprofit Global Witness found that mining was “by far” the biggest driving force behind killings of environmental defenders. Of the 196 environmental defenders killed worldwide last year—actual numbers are likely far higher—25 were killed as a result of fights against mining and extraction projects; 23 of those killings were in Latin America. Neither is it historically uncommon for rich countries to stomach authoritarians and look the other way for the sake of cheaper raw materials. The only novelty now is that they’re doing so in the name of fighting climate change.

Climate policies meant to reduce emissions as quickly as possible, though, would probably focus elsewhere: on expanding and improving less resource-intensive forms of mass transit, for instance, and reducing carbon-intensive sprawl and car dependence simultaneously. Lithium would be important in either case; it’s not wrong to want to diversify hyperconcentrated supply chains. But the U.S. and EU’s intense focus on electric vehicles suggests that they’re likely more interested in protecting their own legacy industries than the planet’s chances of flying past two, three, or four degrees Celsius of global warming.

As temperatures rise, the climate crisis is inflicting damage farther and farther north. Richer places once thought to be insulated from the extreme weather are now grappling with inescapable wildfires, unbearable heat and uninsurable homes. How countries respond to that crisis will alter landscapes in other ways. “If this is normalized in the Balkans—an already shaky region—I’m not sure what the green transition is going to look like,” Matković tells me. Serbia is already a source of precarious, outsourced labor for Chinese and European companies. If the Rio Tinto project goes through there, activists fear Serbia will become a de facto resource colony of the EU’s wealthiest nations. And Serbia could be a preview, Matković worries, of what an uneven, too-slow energy transition has in store for many other less-developed countries peripheral to major powers and their climate plans: “a violent and escalating situation in which raw materials and minerals are extracted from the periphery so the middle classes in the U.S. can continue to exist in the twentieth century and have cars as a status symbol.”

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Exxon delays planned plastics plant on Texas coast

The announcement comes six weeks after a judge struck down the local school district’s decision to give Exxon a tax break for the $10 billion plant in Calhoun County.

Sign up for The Brief, The Texas Tribune’s daily newsletter that keeps readers up to speed on the most essential Texas news. This story is published in partnership with Inside Climate News, a nonprofit, independent news organization that covers climate, energy and the environment. Sign up for the ICN newsletter here. Exxon Mobil will postpone its plans for a large new plastics production plant on the Gulf coast, according to the company. Construction was initially planned to begin next year on the $10 billion facility in rural Calhoun County. “Based on current market conditions, we are going to slow the pace of our development for the Coastal Plain Venture,” Exxon said in an emailed statement. “We’re confident in our growth strategy, and we remain interested in a potential project along the US Gulf Coast and in other regions around the world.” Six weeks prior, a county district court judge invalidated the local school board’s decision to negotiate a tax break agreement with Exxon, following a lawsuit from Diane Wilson, 77, and her group, San Antonio Bay Estuarine Waterkeeper. On Aug. 19 the judge ordered the school board to redo its public hearing on Exxon’s tax break after Wilson alleged the district provided inadequate notice of the meeting in “a deliberate attempt to avoid public opposition.” Wilson, an internationally known environmental advocate, promised to bring a large audience for the repeat hearing. “I think it definitely played into it,” Wilson said of Exxon’s pause. “I think if everybody had just rolled over for them, if they got exactly what they wanted and there wasn’t a big fight, there would be no delay.” Exxon, which reported nearly $34 billion in profits in 2024, was seeking a 50% reduction in its property taxes to the rural Calhoun County Independent School District for 10 years, beginning in 2031, when the project would come online. The world-scale plastics plant was planned to produce up to 3 million tons per year of polyethylene pellets for export, primarily to Asia, according to Exxon’s December 2024 tax abatement application. John Titas, president of the Victoria Economic Development Corporation in nearby Victoria, said he didn’t think Exxon’s decision was related to the tax break fight. “I think they’ve been very thankful for the support they received in the community,” he said. “It’s economics. To justify an investment of that magnitude, you’ve got to make sure the market will provide a return.” In Exxon’s latest statement, first reported last week by Independent Commodity Intelligence Services, an industry news service, the company maintained the possibility of resuming the project in the future. “We’re maintaining good relationships with community leaders and contractors, so we are ready to reevaluate the project’s status when market conditions improve,” it said. Exxon didn’t specify which market conditions would need to change. Most projections forecast strong growth in plastics demand over coming years. The economic intelligence firm Precedence Research expects markets for polyethylene, which the Exxon plant would produce, to grow 64% between 2024 and 2034, according to a June 2025 assessment. Another firm, Expert Market Research, expects overall plastics markets to grow 51% in that time. According to the Plastics Industry Association, “The global plastics industry continues to accelerate, backed by strong demand.” Wilson said the project’s delay marked the best news she’d heard since 2019, when she found out that her lawsuit against another nearby petrochemical giant, Formosa Plastics, would end with a settlement worth more than $100 million in penalty payouts, facility upgrades and cleanup projects. Credit: Dylan Baddour/Inside Climate News A retired shrimper and mother of five, Wilson learned her tactics of resistance over decades of radical activism in defense of Texas’ coastal bays, where four generations of her family have fished for a living. In 2023 she received the Goldman Environmental Prize, the leading global award for environmental activism. As soon as she heard about the new Exxon project, in December 2024, she said she leaped into action, involving herself in the various public processes she’s come to know about, including the school district tax break agreements. “How a community reacts is extremely important and it’s extremely important that you do it in the beginning,” she said. “Move fast and don’t let up.” Disclosure: The Victoria Economic Development Corporation has been a financial supporter of The Texas Tribune, a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that is funded in part by donations from members, foundations and corporate sponsors. Financial supporters play no role in the Tribune's journalism. Find a complete list of them here. The wait is over! The full TribFest program is here. Join us Nov. 13–15 in downtown Austin and hear from 300+ thinkers, leaders and change-makers shaping Texas’ future. TribFest gives you a front-row seat to what’s next, with 100+ sessions covering education, the economy, policy, culture and more. Explore the program. TribFest 2025 is presented by JPMorganChase.

Goodall's Influence Spread Far and Wide. Those Who Felt It Are Pledging to Continue Her Work

In the wake of Jane Goodall's death, the many scientists and others influenced by her are promising to do their best to carry on her legacy

In her 91 years, Jane Goodall transformed science and humanity's understanding of our closest living relatives on the planet — chimpanzees and other great apes. Her patient fieldwork and tireless advocacy for conservation inspired generations of future researchers and activists, especially women and young people, around the world.Her death on Wednesday set off a torrent of tributes for the famed primate researcher, with many people sharing stories of how Goodall and her work inspired their own careers. The tributes also included pledges to honor Goodall’s memory by redoubling efforts to safeguard a planet that sorely needs it. Making space in science for animal minds and emotions “Jane Goodall is an icon – because she was the start of so much,” said Catherine Crockford, a primatologist at the CNRS Institute for Cognitive Sciences in France. She recalled how many years ago Goodall answered a letter from a young aspiring researcher. “I wrote her a letter asking how to become a primatologist. She sent back a handwritten letter and told me it will be hard, but I should try,” Crockford said. “For me, she gave me my career.”Goodall was one of three pioneering young women studying great apes in the 1960s and 1970s who began to revolutionize the way people understood just what was -- and wasn’t -- unique about our own species. Sometimes called the “Tri-mates,” Goodall, Dian Fossey and Biruté Galdikas spent years documenting the intimate lives of chimpanzees in Tanzania, mountain gorillas in Rwanda, and orangutans in Indonesia, respectively.The projects they began have produced some of the long-running studies about animal behavior in the world that are crucial to understanding such long-lived species. “These animals are like us, slow to mature and reproduce, and living for decades. We are still learning new things about them,” said Tara Stoinski, a primatologist and president of the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund. “Jane and Dian knew each other and learned from each other, and the scientists who continued their work continue to collaborate today.”Goodall studied chimpanzees — as a species and as individuals. And she named them: David Greybeard, Flo, Fifi, Goliath. That was highly unconventional at the time, but Goodall’s attention to individuals created space for scientists to observe and record differences in individual behaviors, preferences and even emotions.Catherine Hobaiter, a primatologist at St. Andrews University who was inspired by Goodall, recalled how Goodall carefully combined empathy and objectivity. Goodall liked to use a particular phrase, “If they were human, we would describe them as happy,” or “If they were human, we would describe them as friends –- these two individuals together,” Hobaiter said. Goodall didn’t project precise feelings onto the chimpanzees, but nor did she deny the capacity of animals besides humans to have emotional lives.Goodall and her frequent collaborator, evolutionary biologist Marc Bekoff, had just finished the text of a forthcoming children's book, called “Every Elephant Has a Name,” which will be published around early 2027. Inspiring scientists and advocates for nature around the world From the late 1980s until her death, Goodall spent less time in the field and more time on the road talking to students, teachers, diplomats, park rangers, presidents and many others around the world. She inspired countless others through her books. Her mission was to inspire action to protect the natural world.In 1991, she founded an organization called Roots & Shoots that grew to include chapters of young people in dozens of countries.Stuart Pimm, a Duke University ecologist and founder of the nonprofit Saving Nature, recalled when he and Goodall were invited to speak to a congressional hearing about deforestation and extinction. Down the marble halls of the government building, “there was a huge line of teenage girls and their mothers just waiting to get inside the room to hear Jane speak,” Pimm said Thursday. “She was mobbed everywhere she went -- she was just this incredible inspiration to people in general, particularly to young women.”Goodall wanted everyone to find their voice, no matter their age or station, said Zanagee Artis, co-founder of the youth climate movement Zero Hour. “I really appreciated how much Jane valued young people being in the room -- she really fostered intergenerational movement building,” said Artis, who now works for the Natural Resources Defense Council.And she did it around the world. Roots & Shoots has a chapter in China, which Goodall visited multiple times.“My sense was that Jane Goodall was highly respected in China and that her organization was successful in China because it focused on topics like environmental and conservation education for youth that had broad appeal without touching on political sensitivities,” said Alex Wang, a University of California, Los Angeles expert on China and the environment, who previously worked in Beijing.What is left now that Goodall is gone is her unending hope, perhaps her greatest legacy.“She believed hope was not simply a feeling, but a tool,” Rhett Butler, founder of the nonprofit conservation-news site Mongabay, wrote in his Substack newsletter. “Hope, she would tell me, creates agency.” Carrying forward her legacy Goodall’s legacy and life’s work will continue through her family, scientists, her institute and legions of young people around the globe who are working to bridge conservation and humanitarian needs in their own communities, her longtime assistant said Thursday.That includes Goodall’s son and three grandchildren, who are an important part of the work of the Jane Goodall Institute and in their own endeavors, said Mary Lewis, a vice president at the institute who began working with the famed primatologist in 1990.Goodall’s son, Hugo van Lawick, works on sustainable housing. He is currently in Rwanda. Grandson Merlin and granddaughter Angelo work with the institute, while grandson Nick is a photographer and filmmaker, Lewis said. “She has her own family legacy as well as the legacy through her institutes around the world,” said Lewis.In addition to her famed research center in Tanzania and chimpanzee sanctuaries in other countries, including the Republic of Congo and South Africa, a new cultural center is expected to open in Tanzania late next year. There also are Jane Goodall Institutes in 26 countries, and communities are leading conservation projects in several countries, including an effort in Senegal to save critically endangered Western chimpanzees.But it is the institute’s youth-led education program called Roots & Shoots that Goodall regarded as her enduring legacy because it is “empowering new generations,” Lewis said.The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute’s Department of Science Education and the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation. AP’s 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 – Sept. 2025

‘Only if we help shall all be saved’: Jane Goodall showed we can all be part of the solution

Jane Goodall showed tremendous courage in charting her own course as a pioneering researcher – and working to spread hope wherever she went.

Penelope Breese/GettyWith the passing of Dr Jane Goodall, the world has lost a conservation giant. But her extraordinary achievements leave a profound legacy. Goodall was a world-leading expert in animal behaviour and a globally recognised environmental and conservation advocate. She achieved all this at a time when women were commonly sidelined or ignored in science. Her work with chimpanzees showed it was wrong to assume only humans used tools. She showed us the animals expressed emotions such as love and grief and have individual personalities. Goodall showed us scientists can express their emotions and values and that we can be respected researchers as well as passionate advocates and science communicators. After learning about how chimpanzees were being used in medical research, she spoke out: “I went to the conference as a scientist, and I left as an activist.” As childhood rights activist Marian Wright Edelman has eloquently put it, “You can’t be what you can’t see”. Goodall showed what it was possible to be. Forging her own path Goodall took a nontraditional path into science. The brave step of going into the field at the age of 26 to make observations was supported by her mother. Despite making world-first discoveries such as tool use by non-humans, people didn’t take her seriously because she hadn’t yet gone to university. Nowadays, people who contribute wildlife observations are celebrated under the banner of citizen science. Goodall was a beacon at a time when science was largely dominated by men – especially remote fieldwork. But she changed that narrative. She convinced famous paleoanthropologist Louis Leakey to give her a chance. He first employed her as a secretary. But it wasn’t long until he asked her to go to Tanzania’s remote Gombe Stream National Park. In 1960, she arrived. This was not easy. It took real courage to work in a remote area with limited support alongside chimpanzees, a species thought to be peaceful but now known to be far stronger than humans and capable of killing animals and humans. Goodall is believed to be the only person accepted into chimpanzee society. Through calm but determined persistence she won their trust. These qualities served Goodall well – not just with chimps, but throughout her entire career advocating for conservation and societal change. At Gombe, she showed for the first time that animals could fashion and use tools, had individual personalities, expressed emotions and had a higher intelligence and understanding than they were credited with. Jane Goodall worked with chimpanzees for decades. This 2015 video shows her releasing Wounda, an injured chimpanzee helped back to health in the Republic of Congo. Goodall was always an animal person and her love of chimps was in part inspired by her toy Jubilee, gifted by her father. She had close bonds with her pets and extended these bonds to wildlife. Goodall gave her study subjects names such as “David Greybeard”, the first chimp to accept her at Gombe. Some argue we shouldn’t place a human persona on animals by naming them. But Goodall showed it was not only acceptable to see animals as individuals with different behaviours, but it greatly aids connection with and care for wildlife. Goodall became an international voice for wildlife. She used her profile to encourage a focus on animal welfare in conservation, caring for both individuals and species. Jane Goodall’s pioneering work with chimpanzees shed light on these animals as individuals – and showed they make tools and experience emotions. Apic/Getty A pioneer for women in science With Goodall’s passing, the world has lost one of the three great “nonagenarian environmental luminaries”, to use co-author Vanessa Pirotta’s phrase. The other two are the naturalist documentary maker, Sir David Attenborough, 99, and famed marine biologist Dr Sylvia Earle, who is 90. Goodall showed us women can be pioneering scientists and renowned communicators as well as mothers. She shared her work in ways accessible to all generations, from National Geographic documentaries to hip podcasts. Her visibility encouraged girls and women around the world to be bold and follow our own paths. Goodall’s story directly inspired several authors of this article. Co-author Marissa Parrott was privileged to have spoken to Goodall several times during her visits to Melbourne Zoo and on her world tours. Goodall’s story was a direct inspiration for Parrott’s own remote and international fieldwork, supported by her mother just as Goodall’s mother had supported her. They both survived malaria, which also kills chimpanzees and gorillas. Goodall long championed a One Health approach, recognising the health of communities, wildlife and the environment are all interconnected. Co-author Zara Bending worked and toured alongside Goodall. The experience demonstrated how conservationists could be powerful advocates through storytelling, and how our actions reveal who we are. As Goodall once said: every single one of us matters, every single one of us has a role to play, and every single one of us makes a difference every single day. From the forest floor to global icon Goodall knew conservation is as much about people as it is about wildlife and wild places. Seventeen years after beginning her groundbreaking research in Gombe, Goodall established the Jane Goodall Institute with the mission of protecting wildlife and habitat by engaging local communities. Her institute’s global network now spans five continents and continues her legacy of community-centred conservation. Researchers have now been studying the chimps at Gombe for 65 years. Goodall moved from fieldwork to being a global conservation icon who regularly travelled more than 300 days a year. She observed many young people across cultures and creeds who had lost hope for their future amid environmental and climate destruction. In response, she founded a second organisation, Roots & Shoots, in 1991. Her goal was: to foster respect and compassion for all living things, to promote understanding of all cultures and beliefs, and to inspire each individual to take action to make the world a better place for people, other animals, and the environment. Last year, Roots & Shoots groups were active in 75 countries. Their work is a testament to Goodall’s mantra: find hope in action. Jane Goodall went from pioneering field researcher to international conservation icon. David S. Holloway/Getty Protecting nature close to home One of Goodall’s most remarkable attributes was her drive to give people the power to take action where they were. No matter where people lived or what they did, she helped them realise they could be part of the solution. In a busy, urbanised world, it’s easier than ever to feel disconnected from nature. Rather than presenting nature as a distant concept, Goodall made it something for everyone to experience, care for and cherish. She showed we didn’t have to leave our normal lives behind to protect nature – we could make just as much difference in our own communities. One of her most famous quotes rings just as true today as when she first said it: only if we understand, can we care. Only if we care, will we help. Only if we help shall all be saved. Let’s honour her world-changing legacy by committing to understand, care and help save all species with whom we share this world. For Jane Goodall. Euan Ritchie is a Councillor with the Biodiversity Council, a member of the Ecological Society of Australia and the Australian Mammal Society, and President of the Australian Mammal Society.Zara Bending is affiliated with the Jane Goodall Institute as a resident expert on wildlife crime and international law. Kylie Soanes, Marissa Parrott, and Vanessa Pirotta do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

Wildlife Advocate and Primate Expert Jane Goodall Dies at 91

By Susan Heavey(Reuters) -Scientist and global activist Jane Goodall, who turned her childhood love of primates into a lifelong quest for...

(Reuters) -Scientist and global activist Jane Goodall, who turned her childhood love of primates into a lifelong quest for protecting the environment, died on Wednesday at the age of 91, the institute she founded said.Goodall died of natural causes, the Jane Goodall Institute said in a social media post."Dr. Goodall’s discoveries as an ethologist revolutionized science, and she was a tireless advocate for the protection and restoration of our natural world," it said.The primatologist-turned-conservationist spun her love of wildlife into a life-long campaign that took her from a seaside English village to Africa and then across the globe in a quest to better understand chimpanzees, as well as the role that humans play in safeguarding their habitat and the planet's health overall.Goodall was a pioneer in her field, both as a female scientist in the 1960s and for her work studying the behavior of primates. She created a path for a string of other women to follow suit, including the late Dian Fossey.She also drew the public into the wild, partnering with the National Geographic Society to bring her beloved chimps into their lives through film, TV and magazines.She upended scientific norms of the time, giving chimpanzees names instead of numbers, observing their distinct personalities, and incorporating their family relationships and emotions into her work. She also found that, like humans, they use tools."We have found that after all there isn't a sharp line dividing humans from the rest of the animal kingdom," she said in a 2002 TED Talk.As her career evolved, she shifted her focus from primatology to climate advocacy after witnessing widespread habitat devastation, urging the world to take quick and urgent action on climate change."We're forgetting that were part of the natural world," she told CNN in 2020. "There's still a window of time."In 2003, she was appointed a Dame of the British Empire and, in 2025, she received the U.S. Presidential Medal of Freedom.Born in London in 1934 and then growing up in Bournemouth on England's south coast, Goodall had long dreamed of living among wild animals. She said her passion for animals, stoked by the gift of a stuffed toy gorilla from her father, grew as she immersed herself in books such as "Tarzan" and "Dr. Dolittle."She set her dreams aside after leaving school, unable to afford university. She worked as a secretary and then for a film company until a friend's invitation to visit Kenya put the jungle - and its inhabitants - within reach.After saving up money for the journey, by boat, Goodall arrived in the East African nation in 1957. There, an encounter with famed anthropologist and paleontologist Dr. Louis Leakey and his wife, archaeologist Mary Leakey, set her on course to work with primates.Under Leakey, Goodall set up the Gombe Stream Chimpanzee Reserve, later renamed the Gombe Stream Research Centre, near Lake Tanganyika in present-day Tanzania. There she discovered chimpanzees ate meat, fought fierce wars, and perhaps most importantly, fashioned tools in order to eat termites."Now we must redefine tool, redefine man, or accept chimpanzees as humans," Leakey said of the discovery.Although she eventually paused her research to earn a PhD at Cambridge University, Goodall remained in the jungle for years. Her first husband and frequent collaborator was wildlife cameraman Hugo van Lawick.Through the National Geographic's coverage, the chimpanzees at Gombe Stream soon became household names - most famously, one Goodall called David Greybeard for his silver streak of hair.Nearly thirty years after first arriving in Africa, however, Goodall said she realized she could not support or protect the chimpanzees without addressing the dire disappearance of their habitat. She said she realized she would have to look beyond Gombe, leave the jungle, and take up a larger global role as a conservationist.In 1977, she set up the Jane Goodall Institute, a nonprofit organization aimed at supporting the research in Gombe as well as conservation and development efforts across Africa. Its work has since expanded worldwide and includes efforts to tackle environmental education, health and advocacy.She made a new name for herself, traveling an average of 300 days a year to meet with local officials in countries around the world and speaking with community and school groups. She continued her world tours into her 90s.She later expanded the institute to include Roots & Shoots, a conservation program aimed at children.It was a stark shift from her isolated research, spending long days watching chimpanzees."It never ceases to amaze me that there's this person who travels around and does all these things," she told the New York Times during a 2014 trip to Burundi and back to Gombe. "And it's me. It doesn't seem like me at all."A prolific author, she published more than 30 books with her observations, including her 1999 bestseller "Reason For Hope: A Spiritual Journey," as well as a dozen aimed at children.Goodall said she never doubted the planet's resilience or human ability to overcome environmental challenges."Yes, there is hope ... It's in our hands, it's in your hands and my hands and those of our children. It's really up to us," she said in 2002, urging people to "leave the lightest possible ecological footprints."She had one son, known as 'Grub,' with van Lawick, whom she divorced in 1974. Van Lawick died in 2002.In 1975, she married Derek Bryceson. He died in 1980.(Writing by Susan Heavey, Editing by Rosalba O'Brien)Copyright 2025 Thomson Reuters.Photos You Should See – Sept. 2025

Starmerism has almost destroyed the Labour party, but I still have hope for renewal | Clive Lewis

As our party conference gets under way this weekend in Liverpool, we must start to work out how we can inspire the countryClive Lewis is the Labour MP for Norwich SouthSo choppy are the waters of the UK’s permacrisis, and so flat-bottomed the life raft known as Starmerism, that ideas once thought impossible at the outset of Keir Starmer’s initial soft-left, “Corbyn-in-a-suit” journey have become the defining realities of Labour’s present course. As its conference begins in Liverpool this weekend, the party must ask itself whether the political culture it is building is one that can inspire a country, or merely discipline it into compliance. Without a shift towards democracy, discussion and pluralism, Labour risks forfeiting the very moral and political authority it needs to confront the authoritarian voices shouting so loudly beyond our own ranks, and increasingly within them.The Corbyn wave that swept Labour in 2015 was more than just a political surge. It was a redefinition of the possible, a moment when grassroots activism, radical ideas and the audacity of political hope took centre stage. It represented a demand for genuine democracy, pluralism and change. For many, it was the first time in living memory that Labour had felt like a movement rather than a machine. Today, Starmer’s absolute determination to distance Labour from that era speaks volumes.Clive Lewis is the Labour MP for Norwich South. This is an edited extract from Clive Lewis’s foreword to The Starmer Symptom, by Mark Perryman Continue reading...

So choppy are the waters of the UK’s permacrisis, and so flat-bottomed the life raft known as Starmerism, that ideas once thought impossible at the outset of Keir Starmer’s initial soft-left, “Corbyn-in-a-suit” journey have become the defining realities of Labour’s present course. As its conference begins in Liverpool this weekend, the party must ask itself whether the political culture it is building is one that can inspire a country, or merely discipline it into compliance. Without a shift towards democracy, discussion and pluralism, Labour risks forfeiting the very moral and political authority it needs to confront the authoritarian voices shouting so loudly beyond our own ranks, and increasingly within them.The Corbyn wave that swept Labour in 2015 was more than just a political surge. It was a redefinition of the possible, a moment when grassroots activism, radical ideas and the audacity of political hope took centre stage. It represented a demand for genuine democracy, pluralism and change. For many, it was the first time in living memory that Labour had felt like a movement rather than a machine. Today, Starmer’s absolute determination to distance Labour from that era speaks volumes.The current party leadership views unity not as something cultivated through respectful dialogue and diverse perspectives, but something enforced through control. The Corbyn moment threatened Labour precisely because it signalled a party potentially ungovernable by conventional managerial methods. This is a party unsure how to reconcile democratic participation with electoral success.Parliamentary candidate selections have been increasingly centralised, and grassroots members and leftwing voices within the party marginalised. A party once brimming with energy, ideas and volunteers has become a professionalised bureaucracy aimed at maintaining power rather than transforming society.Labour’s aversion to pluralism is most obvious in its rejection of coalition politics. It wants to be an electoral juggernaut capable of winning alone or not at all. Yet contemporary crises – climate breakdown, authoritarian populism, stark economic inequality – demand cooperation beyond narrow party lines. Collaboration between Labour, the Greens, the Liberal Democrats and other progressive forces is not a sign of weakness, but maturity. And the stakes are as high as the very future of our democracy, our planet. Such a refusal to share power becomes not just strategically foolish, but morally questionable.Nowhere is Labour’s aversion to transformative politics clearer than in its avoidance of public ownership. Consider water. Public opinion consistently favours renationalisation – not as nostalgia, but as a pragmatic response to corporate failures, ecological crises and profound erosion of trust in privatised utilities. Refusing public ownership signals abandonment of democratic control over our collective future, showing Labour’s alignment with a neoliberal orthodoxy that has repeatedly failed.This alignment finds its starkest symbol in the party’s embrace of corporate influence. This undermines democracy itself by nourishing popular cynicism. When voters see politicians cosying up to the same firms that profited from the 2008 crash, the social contract frays further.Labour’s timidity on the climate emergency underscores this problem further. This defining crisis of our times demands bold, courageous and imaginative responses. Yet Labour’s approach has been cautious and timid, perpetually afraid of alienating swing voters or corporate backers. Net zero is framed only in terms of competitiveness, not adaptation and survival. Green investment is promised, but always secondary to fiscal rules set by an economic consensus long past its sell-by date. While floods devastate communities and air quality worsens, Labour dithers.Part of the problem is that the party is paralysed by institutional pressures and geopolitical alignments. Of course, balancing these forces is what makes for great governments and leaders. But Starmer has shown no such inclination. As prime minister, he faces substantial constraints, particularly regarding established alliances such as those with the US. But his careful neutrality over the humanitarian crisis in Gaza and quiet acquiescence to harsh immigration policies reflect an inclination toward diplomatic continuity rather than ethical clarityor moral leadership.In this vacuum, the populist right seizes ground, offering nativist, nationalist solutions to problems that demand internationalist, ecological and equitable solidarity.skip past newsletter promotionSign up to Matters of OpinionGuardian columnists and writers on what they’ve been debating, thinking about, reading, and morePrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain information about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. If you do not have an account, we will create a guest account for you on theguardian.com to send you this newsletter. You can complete full registration at any time. For more information about how we use your data see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotionAnd yet, despite these profound concerns, hope persists. Not because the current Labour leadership inspires it, but in spite of it. Hope survives in the growing networks of community organisers, cooperative movements, union branches, citizen assemblies and environmental campaigns. It flourishes in places ignored by Westminster – municipal projects reclaiming public land, local councils experimenting with participatory budgeting, workers organising in Amazon warehouses and Uber ranks. These spaces show that politics is not the property of party elites, but of people acting in concert to change their lives.Ultimately, Starmerism risks rendering Labour unfit for the purpose it was created for: to give a political voice to working people and deliver collective solutions to collective problems. Openly addressing this is essential for Labour – and British politics broadly.The crisis is real, yet so too is the potential for renewal. But that renewal cannot come from above. It must come from below – from a revitalised political culture that sees people not as voters to be harvested, but as citizens to be empowered. Recognising this is the first critical step toward a politics daring enough to imagine and urgently act upon the challenges we collectively face. And if this moment is indeed one of endings, then let it also be a moment of beginnings – a time to organise, to imagine and to build anew.

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