Sardinia fights for the climate future: What this ancient island's struggle can teach the world
GAVOI, SARDINIA — On the staircase to the mayor’s office of Gavoi, a screen projects the daily count of energy production and carbon emissions reduction from the solar panels that adorn the municipal buildings in this charming mountain town, as if suggesting that the direction of the energy policy for the second largest island in the Mediterranean is on target. As thousands of climate advocates descend on Baku, Azerbaijan, this week for the 2024 U.N. Climate Change Conference, better known as COP29, Sardinian President Alessandra Todde reiterated her island’s intent to address the “climate emergency” through strong “collective action” in the Mediterranean, citing the recent flooding disasters in Valencia, Spain and the south of Sardinia. But the roadmap for such collective action here — technically, Sardinia is an "autonomous region" of Italy, with its own government — presents a new path forward as a European climate leader on different terms. Sardinia has broken with the Italian government in Rome in a showdown over a "speculative assault” of private energy projects, political power and its implications of autonomous rule in an age of climate change. Thousands of protesters converged on the Sardinian capital of Cagliari last month to deliver an extraordinary package — more than 210,000 signatures from an island of 1.6 million inhabitants — on behalf of the “Pratobello 24” initiative, which aims to reclaim the region’s jurisdiction over urban planning, including renewable energy installations. "Sardinia, like it or not, will not accept to passively suffer decisions made from above," President Alessandra Todde declared, in a salvo clearly directed at right-wing Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni. In ways similar to protests seen from Greece to Australia to the “wind rush” in Brazil, and even in Swedish activist Greta Thunberg’s protest against Europe’s largest onshore wind farm on indigenous Sami territory in Norway, the Sardinian rebellion emerges as a powerful cautionary tale: Central government officials must learn follow the lead of locally-based planners in addressing climate action. Sardinians are quick to remind visitors that this crisis is more than a handful of wind turbines tilting above an archaeological site. Nor is it a simple “not in my backyard” complaint, of the kind echoed from Cape Cod to Ireland. In an effort uniting often acrimonious political parties earlier this summer, the Regional Council under the newly-elected Todde passed an emergency 18-month suspension of a mind-boggling number of wind turbine and photovoltaic projects ushered in under former Italian Prime Minister Mario Draghi's administration in 2021 and meant to exploit Sardinia, among other regions, to meet European Union benchmarks for national carbon reductions. That didn’t land well in Rome. Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, still reeling from the electoral rebuke of her right-wing alliance in Sardinia's elections last spring, immediately announced her government’s intention to challenge the region’s jurisdiction in Italy's Constitutional Court. While that jurisdictional question heads to the courtroom, Todde’s regional government approved a legislative decree in mid-September to set "provisions for the identification of areas and surfaces suitable and unsuitable for the installation of renewable energy systems," marking the island as the first Italian region to “propose a law on suitable areas approximately three months in advance of the deadline set by the Government.” "Sardinia, like it or not, will not accept to passively suffer decisions made from above," Todde declared, in a salvo clearly directed at Meloni. Ancient Rome's emperors once feared the wind power along the “insane mountains” on this island. Now it is the Sardinians who are gobsmacked by the Roman obsession with wind power and its possible destruction of their island. According to the Italian-based multinational TERNA, the largest independent electrical grid operator in Europe, applications by outside companies for renewable projects in Sardinia, underscored by E.U. incentives and funds, now number well over 750, potentially producing nearly nine times the amount of clean energy required in the Italian decree. “We inherited a region without rules regarding the installation of renewable energy plants,” declared Todde, “with many authorizations effectively out of control.” Saddled with the highest utility rates anywhere in Italy, Sardinians also know that nearly three-fourths of the energy production on the island comes from fossil fuels, including the only two coal-fired plants in the entire country, both dependent on imported coal, which have been given an extension to operate until 2027. But even that doesn't tell the whole story; nearly 40% of the energy those plants produce is exported to mainland Italy. For Todde's administration, the response is clear: Sardinia plans to lead a green energy transition on its own terms, consulting with municipalities, territories and citizens. Invoking the island’s autonomous status, which makes it one of five regions in Italy granted special jurisdiction over planning and regulatory provisions, Sardinia's Regional Council has not abandoned the Draghi-era benchmarks for renewable energy, but intends to restrict them to “suitable areas” that ensure protection of the landscape, along with cultural and environmental assets. That laudable-sounding goal may be more complicated to achieve than it sounds. A cultural reawakening is spreading across the island, aligning diverse groups committed to municipal rights, cultural and archaeological preservation, environmental protection — and a history of resistance. Diverse voices of rebellion are growing ever more pointed, with increasing protests and blockades. The energy transition, activists say, must serve the island, not subjugate it. A “revolt of the olives” emerged as a symbolic showdown in Selargius, a small municipality near Cagliari, where TERNA's expropriation and destruction of a farmer’s olive grove brought out an army of shovel-wielding supporters to plant new olive trees. Even "Casino Royale" film star Caterina Murino returned to her native island and met with Todde, invoking the resistance of Sardinia's 14th-century hero Eleanor of Arborea as a model for regional leadership. Last week, jazz legend Paolo Fresu performed on Italian national TV along with popular TV host Geppi Cucciari, who joined her fellow Sardinian in reading his monologue dedicated to the island's heritage, "The Wind Knows." Sardinians fear this energy transition will transform their landscape and invade their territory, with the greatest benefits going to Italian and international corporate speculators. From interviews around the island, it is clear that those who live here and love the island fear they will suffer a cultural uprooting, one similar to what has happened over previous centuries, and even millennia. This assertion of Sardinia’s ancient heritage might be the greatest outcome of this crisis. A cultural reawakening is spreading across the island, aligning diverse groups committed to municipal rights, cultural and archaeological preservation, environmental protection — and a history of resistance. Beyond its fabled beaches, Sardinia is not an “empty stage,” as both ancient and modern-day Romans have conceived it. Considered by archaeologists as an “open museum,” the island possesses the highest density of Neolithic and Bronze Age archaeological sites in Europe. One only has to visit the pioneering Nurnet geoportal website, which tracks the island’s archaeological wonders, including those of the Nuragic civilization, which served as a cradle of architectural and maritime innovation in the Bronze Age, beginning around 1800 B.C. Want a daily wrap-up of all the news and commentary Salon has to offer? Subscribe to our morning newsletter, Crash Course. “The risk is that the areas of great environmental, historical and archaeological value in Sardinia will be irremediably compromised,” former Baunei mayor Angela Corrias recently told me. Many such sites, such as the Bronze Age "nuraghe" or tower fortress known as Genna Maria, risk losing their status as anchors for cultural tourism, locals fear, due to the encroachment of wind and solar projects. Villanovaforru mayor Maurizio Onnis filed a formal comment on the environmental and cultural impact of the wind farm proposal in August, declaring that the “historical-identity elements of the landscape” at Nuraghe Genna Maria would be “fractured,” resulting in the “disintegration” of the panoramic and environmental values of the area. Todde’s regional government even joined a court challenge against a solar proposal near the UNESCO World Heritage Site at Barumini. A regional court recently struck down a project proposed near Pranu Muttedu, a Neolithic necropolis that has been called the Sardinian Stonehenge. Some activists invoke a historic uprising against an Italian military facility in Pratobello in 1969, and an awareness of Sardinia's colonial legacy remains a factor today: More than 60% of Italian military operations, including war games and bombing ranges, have claimed over a quarter of the island's territory. A century before the military takeover, deforestation of the island by Italian railways and companies left Sardinia “literally razed as if by a barbarian invasion,” declared the legendary Sardinian journalist and Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci in 1919. He also pointed out the effects of destruction on the island’s climate: “We inherited today’s Sardinia, alternating long dry seasons and flooding showers.” Today’s climate crisis, therefore, is not a new story for this island. Yet Sardinia has never lacked for ideas or innovators. In the midst of this cultural revival, Sardinians see their ancient history as a continuum of today’s endeavors; writers, artists and cultural tourism groups are engaged in a process they call "re-storification," unearthing and forging new stories, rituals, and gatherings that recover the withered or denied strands of history and reshape a continuum between the past and present. That includes climate action. In fact, the Regional Council passed its own environmental energy plan in 2016, spelling out a path to a renewable energy transition and 50% reduction of carbon emissions by 2030. Amid political turmoil and changing regional administrations, the plan fell through the cracks as Draghi's government in Rome ramrodded its decree over Sardinian silence, more than consent. That era of silence in Sardinia is over now. Former Sardinian president and Tiscali founder Renato Soru, the “Bill Gates of Italy,” who created the first subscription-free internet company in Italy, has issued his own Project Sardinia plan for renewable energy. The regional newspaper Unione Sarda, which has become a clearinghouse of information over the “wind assault,” promotes the "Pratobello law," an initiative to grant territories the power to decide over energy projects. In the once-abandoned village of Rebeccu, the MusaMadre Project has inspired a revival based on the power of eco-cultural arts projects. Sardinians are not waiting on the government to move forward. “Soon we will have already created an Eden,” Stefania Demurtas and Salvatore Marongiu told me, as we walked in the shade of fruit trees through their agro-forestry project, Tenute il Maggese, in the eastern Ogliastra area. “A regenerative future is waiting for us in Sardinia.” In the meantime, Sardinia’s fate as a climate leader, and its authority to decide its own energy future, will be decided in the courts. But the island's message to Italy — and the faltering COP29 negotiations — has already set its course. . Read more from Jeff Biggers on the climate crisis
This autonomous island has seen a cultural revival sparked by the battle to control its energy future
GAVOI, SARDINIA — On the staircase to the mayor’s office of Gavoi, a screen projects the daily count of energy production and carbon emissions reduction from the solar panels that adorn the municipal buildings in this charming mountain town, as if suggesting that the direction of the energy policy for the second largest island in the Mediterranean is on target.
As thousands of climate advocates descend on Baku, Azerbaijan, this week for the 2024 U.N. Climate Change Conference, better known as COP29, Sardinian President Alessandra Todde reiterated her island’s intent to address the “climate emergency” through strong “collective action” in the Mediterranean, citing the recent flooding disasters in Valencia, Spain and the south of Sardinia.
But the roadmap for such collective action here — technically, Sardinia is an "autonomous region" of Italy, with its own government — presents a new path forward as a European climate leader on different terms. Sardinia has broken with the Italian government in Rome in a showdown over a "speculative assault” of private energy projects, political power and its implications of autonomous rule in an age of climate change.
Thousands of protesters converged on the Sardinian capital of Cagliari last month to deliver an extraordinary package — more than 210,000 signatures from an island of 1.6 million inhabitants — on behalf of the “Pratobello 24” initiative, which aims to reclaim the region’s jurisdiction over urban planning, including renewable energy installations.
"Sardinia, like it or not, will not accept to passively suffer decisions made from above," President Alessandra Todde declared, in a salvo clearly directed at right-wing Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni.
In ways similar to protests seen from Greece to Australia to the “wind rush” in Brazil, and even in Swedish activist Greta Thunberg’s protest against Europe’s largest onshore wind farm on indigenous Sami territory in Norway, the Sardinian rebellion emerges as a powerful cautionary tale: Central government officials must learn follow the lead of locally-based planners in addressing climate action.
Sardinians are quick to remind visitors that this crisis is more than a handful of wind turbines tilting above an archaeological site. Nor is it a simple “not in my backyard” complaint, of the kind echoed from Cape Cod to Ireland.
In an effort uniting often acrimonious political parties earlier this summer, the Regional Council under the newly-elected Todde passed an emergency 18-month suspension of a mind-boggling number of wind turbine and photovoltaic projects ushered in under former Italian Prime Minister Mario Draghi's administration in 2021 and meant to exploit Sardinia, among other regions, to meet European Union benchmarks for national carbon reductions.
That didn’t land well in Rome. Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, still reeling from the electoral rebuke of her right-wing alliance in Sardinia's elections last spring, immediately announced her government’s intention to challenge the region’s jurisdiction in Italy's Constitutional Court.
While that jurisdictional question heads to the courtroom, Todde’s regional government approved a legislative decree in mid-September to set "provisions for the identification of areas and surfaces suitable and unsuitable for the installation of renewable energy systems," marking the island as the first Italian region to “propose a law on suitable areas approximately three months in advance of the deadline set by the Government.”
"Sardinia, like it or not, will not accept to passively suffer decisions made from above," Todde declared, in a salvo clearly directed at Meloni.
Ancient Rome's emperors once feared the wind power along the “insane mountains” on this island. Now it is the Sardinians who are gobsmacked by the Roman obsession with wind power and its possible destruction of their island. According to the Italian-based multinational TERNA, the largest independent electrical grid operator in Europe, applications by outside companies for renewable projects in Sardinia, underscored by E.U. incentives and funds, now number well over 750, potentially producing nearly nine times the amount of clean energy required in the Italian decree.
“We inherited a region without rules regarding the installation of renewable energy plants,” declared Todde, “with many authorizations effectively out of control.”
Saddled with the highest utility rates anywhere in Italy, Sardinians also know that nearly three-fourths of the energy production on the island comes from fossil fuels, including the only two coal-fired plants in the entire country, both dependent on imported coal, which have been given an extension to operate until 2027. But even that doesn't tell the whole story; nearly 40% of the energy those plants produce is exported to mainland Italy.
For Todde's administration, the response is clear: Sardinia plans to lead a green energy transition on its own terms, consulting with municipalities, territories and citizens.
Invoking the island’s autonomous status, which makes it one of five regions in Italy granted special jurisdiction over planning and regulatory provisions, Sardinia's Regional Council has not abandoned the Draghi-era benchmarks for renewable energy, but intends to restrict them to “suitable areas” that ensure protection of the landscape, along with cultural and environmental assets.
That laudable-sounding goal may be more complicated to achieve than it sounds.
A cultural reawakening is spreading across the island, aligning diverse groups committed to municipal rights, cultural and archaeological preservation, environmental protection — and a history of resistance.
Diverse voices of rebellion are growing ever more pointed, with increasing protests and blockades. The energy transition, activists say, must serve the island, not subjugate it. A “revolt of the olives” emerged as a symbolic showdown in Selargius, a small municipality near Cagliari, where TERNA's expropriation and destruction of a farmer’s olive grove brought out an army of shovel-wielding supporters to plant new olive trees.
Even "Casino Royale" film star Caterina Murino returned to her native island and met with Todde, invoking the resistance of Sardinia's 14th-century hero Eleanor of Arborea as a model for regional leadership. Last week, jazz legend Paolo Fresu performed on Italian national TV along with popular TV host Geppi Cucciari, who joined her fellow Sardinian in reading his monologue dedicated to the island's heritage, "The Wind Knows."
Sardinians fear this energy transition will transform their landscape and invade their territory, with the greatest benefits going to Italian and international corporate speculators. From interviews around the island, it is clear that those who live here and love the island fear they will suffer a cultural uprooting, one similar to what has happened over previous centuries, and even millennia.
This assertion of Sardinia’s ancient heritage might be the greatest outcome of this crisis. A cultural reawakening is spreading across the island, aligning diverse groups committed to municipal rights, cultural and archaeological preservation, environmental protection — and a history of resistance.
Beyond its fabled beaches, Sardinia is not an “empty stage,” as both ancient and modern-day Romans have conceived it. Considered by archaeologists as an “open museum,” the island possesses the highest density of Neolithic and Bronze Age archaeological sites in Europe. One only has to visit the pioneering Nurnet geoportal website, which tracks the island’s archaeological wonders, including those of the Nuragic civilization, which served as a cradle of architectural and maritime innovation in the Bronze Age, beginning around 1800 B.C.
Want a daily wrap-up of all the news and commentary Salon has to offer? Subscribe to our morning newsletter, Crash Course.
“The risk is that the areas of great environmental, historical and archaeological value in Sardinia will be irremediably compromised,” former Baunei mayor Angela Corrias recently told me.
Many such sites, such as the Bronze Age "nuraghe" or tower fortress known as Genna Maria, risk losing their status as anchors for cultural tourism, locals fear, due to the encroachment of wind and solar projects. Villanovaforru mayor Maurizio Onnis filed a formal comment on the environmental and cultural impact of the wind farm proposal in August, declaring that the “historical-identity elements of the landscape” at Nuraghe Genna Maria would be “fractured,” resulting in the “disintegration” of the panoramic and environmental values of the area.
Todde’s regional government even joined a court challenge against a solar proposal near the UNESCO World Heritage Site at Barumini. A regional court recently struck down a project proposed near Pranu Muttedu, a Neolithic necropolis that has been called the Sardinian Stonehenge.
Some activists invoke a historic uprising against an Italian military facility in Pratobello in 1969, and an awareness of Sardinia's colonial legacy remains a factor today: More than 60% of Italian military operations, including war games and bombing ranges, have claimed over a quarter of the island's territory.
A century before the military takeover, deforestation of the island by Italian railways and companies left Sardinia “literally razed as if by a barbarian invasion,” declared the legendary Sardinian journalist and Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci in 1919. He also pointed out the effects of destruction on the island’s climate: “We inherited today’s Sardinia, alternating long dry seasons and flooding showers.”
Today’s climate crisis, therefore, is not a new story for this island.
Yet Sardinia has never lacked for ideas or innovators. In the midst of this cultural revival, Sardinians see their ancient history as a continuum of today’s endeavors; writers, artists and cultural tourism groups are engaged in a process they call "re-storification," unearthing and forging new stories, rituals, and gatherings that recover the withered or denied strands of history and reshape a continuum between the past and present. That includes climate action.
In fact, the Regional Council passed its own environmental energy plan in 2016, spelling out a path to a renewable energy transition and 50% reduction of carbon emissions by 2030. Amid political turmoil and changing regional administrations, the plan fell through the cracks as Draghi's government in Rome ramrodded its decree over Sardinian silence, more than consent.
That era of silence in Sardinia is over now.
Former Sardinian president and Tiscali founder Renato Soru, the “Bill Gates of Italy,” who created the first subscription-free internet company in Italy, has issued his own Project Sardinia plan for renewable energy. The regional newspaper Unione Sarda, which has become a clearinghouse of information over the “wind assault,” promotes the "Pratobello law," an initiative to grant territories the power to decide over energy projects. In the once-abandoned village of Rebeccu, the MusaMadre Project has inspired a revival based on the power of eco-cultural arts projects.
Sardinians are not waiting on the government to move forward.
“Soon we will have already created an Eden,” Stefania Demurtas and Salvatore Marongiu told me, as we walked in the shade of fruit trees through their agro-forestry project, Tenute il Maggese, in the eastern Ogliastra area. “A regenerative future is waiting for us in Sardinia.”
In the meantime, Sardinia’s fate as a climate leader, and its authority to decide its own energy future, will be decided in the courts. But the island's message to Italy — and the faltering COP29 negotiations — has already set its course. .
Read more
from Jeff Biggers on the climate crisis