5 years ago, on September 10, 2019, Albert Razin, a 79-year-old Udmurt scientist and public figure, committed “tipshar’, an act of self-immolation near the building of the State Council of Udmurtia in Izhevsk. Banners were found next to him, in which he demanded to save the Udmurt people and language.
“Tipshar” is a form of extreme protest among the Chuvash and Udmurts to preserve honour and dignity in a situation that cannot be fixed.
This tragic event shocked not only Udmurtia but also all of Russia, drawing attention to the problems of preserving the national languages and cultures of small peoples.
Albert Alekseevich Razin was a candidate of philosophical sciences and an honoured scientist of the Udmurt Republic. Throughout his life, He actively fought for the revival of the Udmurt language and national customs. Razin stood at the origins of many national Udmurt organizations created after the collapse of the USSR, including the “Udmurt Kenesh” (Udmurt Council). He tried to stop the linguocide of the Udmurts by Moscow. It was not suicide, but a conscious act aimed at preserving national identity.
The scholar called himself a “peasant scholar” and a “Tolstoyan”, believing that the preservation of the Udmurt language and people was possible through a return to traditional communities and the revival of the village. He was known for his active civic position and constant desire to draw the attention of the authorities to the problems of the Udmurt people.
On the day of his death, Albert Razin went on a solo picket in front of the State Council of Udmurtia. He held two posters in Russian. One read: “Do I have a homeland?”, and the other – a quote from the Avar poet Rasul Gamzatov: “If tomorrow my language disappears, then I am ready to die today”.
Before his self-immolation, Razin handed out to passersby his address to the State Council deputies about the situation with the Udmurt language. In this appeal, he proposed many measures to preserve the Udmurt language and ethnicity, including mandatory study of the Udmurt language in schools, bilingual signs and street names, and support for rural areas as custodians of traditional culture.
The tragedy of Albert Razin was the result of accumulated problems and disappointments. He was deeply concerned about the situation with the Udmurt language and culture, believing that they were in danger of disappearing. Razin repeatedly approached the authorities with proposals to improve the situation but often received only formal responses.
The scientist was convinced that modern “Udmurtophobia” contributed to the formation of a feeling of “inferiority” among the Udmurts and the spread of suicide. He linked the high suicide rate among the Udmurts with a feeling of being “second-class” and a lack of self-esteem.
Albert Razin’s self-immolation caused a wide public resonance. Several hundred people came to the Udmurt Theater to bid farewell to the scientist. Many speakers spoke in Udmurt, emphasizing the importance of his struggle to preserve national culture.
However, the reaction of the authorities was ambiguous. The head of the republic, Aleksandr Brechalov, commented on the situation only a day after the incident, calling Razin “a man who contributed to the development of culture and the Udmurt language”. At the same time, he called for refraining from speculation on the topic of national policy in the republic.
Albert Razin’s tragedy has intensified the discussion about the future of the Udmurt language and culture. The Udmurt Ministry of National Policy offers modern approaches to popularizing the language, such as Udmurt discos, blogger competitions, and Udmurt-language websites. However, Razin considered these initiatives superficial and insufficient.
Independent Udmurt activists such as Alexey Shklyaev advance their agenda by organizing lectures, making films, and translating. They face difficulties and attention from law enforcement agencies, reflecting the complexity of the situation with national movements in the region.
Preserving the Udmurt language faces many difficulties. In Udmurt cities, especially in Izhevsk, there are practically no signs in the Udmurt language, and Udmurt speech is rarely heard on the streets. Many parents, even in rural schools, do not choose to have their children study the national language, fearing that this could interfere with passing the Unified State Exam in Russian and entering universities.
Udmurts make up about 30% of the republic’s population, with most of them living in rural areas. In cities, Udmurts often assimilate, losing touch with their native language and culture.
The tragic death of Albert Razin became the final argument in his long struggle to preserve the Udmurt language and culture. Many consider his act not as suicide, but as a sacrifice for the sake of his people. Razin wanted to draw public attention to the problems of the Udmurt language and urge people to think about their attitude toward their native culture.
Despite its tragic nature, Albert Razin’s act made many people think about the fate of the small peoples of Russia and their languages. His struggle continues to inspire activists and scientists working to preserve national cultures.
The story of Albert Razin is the story of a man who was devoted to his people and their culture to the end. His tragic death became a symbol of the struggle to preserve the national languages and identity of the small peoples of Russia.
Putin’s war in Ukraine has triggered the growth of nationalism in many non-Russian groups inside his country, but one of the broadest and most dramatic examples of this is abroad in London’s Yurt Community which began as an anti-war movement but has now expanded to be a center for the promotion of non-Russian languages and cultures.
Lidiya Grigoryeva, an activist with the group, says the Yurt Community movement was launched a year ago in London to help non-Russians from the Russian Federation express their opposition to Putin’s war in Ukraine. That has led the group to work to promote the salvation and growth of their nations (idelreal.org/a/32577459.html).
Last month, she says, the group launched a Navigator of the Languages of the Indigenous Peoples of Russia, an internet project (t.me/yurt_community/38 and yurtcommunity.org/ru)that is “the only platform for the preservation and dissemination of academic and other materials on the languages of ethnic groups living on the territory of Russia.”
Grigoryeva herself is a Yakut who spoke her national language at home but lost the habit of doing so when she went to a Russian-language school. She recovered her interest in her national language when she studied in St. Petersburg and was subjected to bullying by Russians for using her language. Instead of repressing her, such experiences revived her interest in Sakha.
In her republic, she says, there is a general revival of interest in the Sakha language. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the situation among the numerically smaller peoples of the Russian north. There the rising generation rarely knows the national language, and these tongues face extinction in the near future. The Yurt Platform is designed to combat that.
Unfortunately, she continues, this is a difficult but absolutely necessary struggle: “The trend in modern society is toward simplification, seeing everything in black and white,” with people saying there’s no need for learning any languages except Russian and English. But “that is the same as saying we don’t need thousands of kinds of plants or more than seven colors.”
“Diversity of languages and cultures only enriches any society,” Grigoryeva says; “and it is very sad to realize that we are losing this wealth.” Of course, to reverse the current path requires more than instruction in these languages; it requires a wholesale revamping of society so that people will find the use of these languages useful to themselves.
According to the activist, “a language lives in a milieu – and few are interested in studying a language which does not help them find work or get a high-quality education, especially if one considers the large number of stereotypes and stigmas about indigenous languages.”
Activism in support of languages is thus connected with activism in support of nations more generally, she argues. “There exists a great diversity of ethnic activism, and the study of the culture, history and language of one’s people is not necessarily connected with national liberation ideas.” But they can support one another.
“For us,” she says, “de-colonization is in the first instance a return to ourselves of our cultural identity, a sense that we rank too as ‘a state-forming people,’ no better and no worse than others, are capable of resisted forced russification, and struggle for our right to be ourselves” rather than to be defined by others.
According to Grigoryeva, “our movement includes representatives of civil society … [because] each people and each individual has the right to a worthy life, respect for his or her culture and language. We must not be ashamed of our identities, cultures, and langauges, just as we must not discriminate against others on ethnic grounds.”
“The problem of Russia is that instead of a real discussion and resolution of problems … the authorities hypocritically speak about ‘the friendship of the peoples’ and create a beautiful picture for show while deepening the contradictions in the current system. Therefore, the popularity of national liberation movements and de-colonial discourse will only grow.”
“Our movement,” Grigoryeva says, “does not form a political unit; but we understand that in a democratic country, national-liberation movements could become one of the parties in republic parliaments.” Today, the situation in Russia is far from that; but it is a goal worth working towards.
The European Parliament is preparing to vote on the Critical Raw Materials Act (CRMA) this week, providing a golden opportunity to embed key principles which will promote a true just energy transition.
Climate change presents a profound risk to human rights. Responding to it with the urgency it deserves requires changing unsustainable patterns of consumption and production and a shift to renewable sources of energies – such as wind and solar. Yet, acceleration in the extraction of raw materials needed to manufacture these technologies risks exacerbating human rights violations and environmental destruction that have long been the hallmarks of the extractive sector. Repeating its failure to prevent harmful impacts on affected communities is not an option. More than half of global resources for minerals essential in the energy transition are located on or near the lands of Indigenous and peasant peoples – whose rights to Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC) must be preserved.
Mining comes with risks of human rights abuses. Between 2010 and 2022, the Resource Centre documented 510 allegations of abuses in connection with the extraction of copper, cobalt, lithium, nickel, manganese and zinc. Civil society organisations and Indigenous Peoples’ movements have called for the EU to safeguard human rights and the environment in the CRMA. Without adequate human rights and environmental protections, and without questioning European consumption levels for virgin raw materials, incentivising the intensification of mining activities can lead to a dramatic increase of their impacts on local communities, Indigenous Peoples and their environments.
The European Union (EU) has an opportunity to lead a rapid, global energy transition which leaves no one behind, addressing the climate crisis whilst respecting the rights of communities, human rights and environmental rights defenders and Indigenous Peoples, and guaranteeing certainty and competitiveness for companies and investors.
1. Aligningcorporate responsibility and demands on companies:
The CRMA should guarantee policy coherence and legal certainty through explicit reference to international due diligence standards set out in the UN Guiding Principles on Business & Human Rights (UNGPs), the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises and the upcoming Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive (CSDDD) – and ensure they apply to all strategic project promoters in the CRMA. This involves requirements for substantive human rights and environmental due diligence (HREDD), to avoid sole reliance on industry-led certification schemes – whose limitations, amongst others, resulting from a lack of transparency, independence and conflicts of interest have been documented. Such schemes promote top-down approaches to compliance and stifle innovation and ongoing improvements in corporate due diligence practices. While certification can support compliance with sustainability or corporate HREDD responsibilities, it cannot achieve these by itself.
2. Corporate accountability and respect for human rights and Indigenous Peoples’ rights:
Legislation on raw materials supply chains also needs to tackle the environmental and social impacts of mining for transition minerals. These are multifaceted and, as research by the Resource Centre has shown, are often associated with multiple harms including air, soil and water pollution, overuse of water resources, loss of biodiversity and deforestation, health and safety issues in the workplace, land rights abuses and lack of consultation and engagement with local and Indigenous communities. The current global rush to mine for more transition minerals also creates incentives for unscrupulous mining companies to use corrupt practices to cut corners on environmental and human rights safeguards, as well as expedite community consultation processes. Mining is also the most dangerous sector for human rights defenders.
Corporate abuse, and the distrust it generates, risks derailing the global energy transition. EU policymakers must consider the track record of human rights and environmental abuses of candidate project promoters. Fast-tracking mining projects cannot come at the expense of human rights, and especially not Indigenous Peoples’ rights. Respect for their unique and internationally recognised rights, in particular their right to self-determination, which includes the right to give or withhold their FPIC to projects on their lands, must be front and centre within the CRMA.
To ensure sponsored projects are grounded in meaningful involvement and respect for public participation rights of local communities is anchored in international law, language such as ‘facilitating public acceptance’ must be avoided. Engagement with local communities should be defined in the framework of existing international obligations, including Article 27 of the International Convention of Civil and Political Rights, the UNGPs, the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises, the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, as well as the International Labour Organization’s Convention 169.
3. Enabling a global just transition
The CRMA should include safeguards to enable resource-rich countries’ self-determined development, energy security and local value addition, and guarantee the availability of such materials for the energy transition requirements of non-EU countries and prevent human rights violations. It is equally important for the CRMA to adopt a systemic approach to the determination and long-term reduction of environmental footprints. Taking proactive measures to mitigate the increase in demand of critical raw materials should be a core strategy of the EU to strengthen its strategic autonomy and reduce its global environmental footprint.
Enabling a global just transition must also include a strong participation of civil society in the governance body of the CRMA. Civil society’s meaningful participation, including organisations from partner countries, is also essential when selecting and prioritising strategic partnerships.
By Olga Martin-Ortega and Caroline Avan, Business & Human Rights Resource Centre
The EU is one of the largest markets in the world with over 700 million consumers and much of what happens in the European Union dictates how raw materials are sourced, processed, and traded globally. As we transition toward a low-carbon economy, the CSDDD is an important step towards corporate accountability, responsible business conduct, and access to justice for Indigenous Peoples.
There is a dramatic increase in demand for minerals such as nickel, lithium, cobalt, and copper for renewable energy technologies as a result of the Green and Digital Transitions. As a result, mining is expanding at an accelerated pace. Since Indigenous-managed lands cover more than a quarter of the Earth’s surface and Indigenous Peoples manage 80% of the planet’s biodiversity, increased mining directly threatens their rights, their territories, and the world’s biodiversity. Land is the basis for livelihood, identity, and survival for Indigenous Peoples. Therefore, given their important role and the great risks to Indigenous Peoples in this green transition, Indigenous Peoples must be fully and meaningfully consulted and involved throughout the value chain, and Indigenous priorities must be integrated into decision-making with the full respect of Indigenous-led protocols of Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC).
The following figures provide a glimpse of Indigenous Peoples’ risks:
Of 5,097 mining projects globally that involve some 30 minerals used in renewable energy technologies, 54% are located on or near Indigenous Peoples’ lands and territories (via Nature Sustainability).
In the United States, 97% of nickel, 89% of copper, 79% of lithium, and 68% of cobalt reserves – primary minerals needed for the energy transition – are located within 35 miles of Native American reservations (via MSCI).
Over a period of 12 years, there were 510 human rights allegations made against all 115 companies involved in transition mineral extraction; this figure represents only reported instances; 49 of the allegations involved Indigenous Peoples (via Business & Human Rights Resource Centre). In 2022, almost 40% of the attacks related to transition minerals were against Indigenous Peoples or their communities.
Indigenous Peoples’ Rights and Biodiversity Protection Are Two Sides of the Same Coin
Indigenous Peoples are stewarding and protecting at least 80% of the world’s remaining biodiversity, their involvement in the transition is not only crucial on its own but also for the health of the planet.
As expressed in the European Parliament proposal amendment 10, recital 9:
“the General European Environment action programme to 2030, the framework for Union action in the field of the environment and climate, aims to protect, restore and improve the state of the environment by, inter alia, halting and reversing biodiversity loss.
As Indigenous rights and biodiversity conservation are inextricably linked, we emphasize the importance of respecting both simultaneously.
Indigenous Peoples’ Call to European Leaders
The SIRGE Coalition calls on European Member states to follow the European Parliament leadership and adopt a CSDDD that guarantees respect for the rights of Indigenous Peoples as stated in the United Nations Declaration on Indigenous Peoples, including the right to Free, Prior and Informed Consent. Taking this approach in the coming trilogue in the European Union will ensure a sustainable, just, and no-one-left-behind transition for Europe and beyond.
The SIRGE coalition has advocated and urged for the explicit inclusion of Indigenous Peoples’ Rights as enumerated in the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), the International Labour Organisation’s Indigenous and Tribal Peoples’ Convention, 1989 (No. 169), including the right to Free, Prior and Informed Consent into the European CSDDD. In this frame, SIRGE applauds the European Parliament’s proposed new amendments (detailed below) and asks them to hold these proposals in the trilogues. SIRGE also calls all European Leaders to build further and strengthen these references in the final CSDDD version.
Amendment 60, recital 44 c:
Companies should take appropriate measures to carry out meaningful engagement with affected stakeholders allowing for genuine interaction and dialogue in their due diligence process. Engagement should cover information and consultation of affected stakeholders and should be comprehensive, structural, effective, timely and culturally and gender responsive. […] The information and consultation of affected stakeholders should […] fully respect the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
Article 3 – paragraph 1 – point na:
‘vulnerable stakeholders’ means affected stakeholders that find themselves in marginalised situations and situations of vulnerability, due to specific contexts or intersecting factors, including among others, […] indigenous peoples,
Article 8 d:
Carrying out meaningful engagement with affected stakeholders
Member States shall ensure that companies take appropriate measures to carry out meaningful engagement with affected stakeholders that allows for genuine interaction and dialogue in their due diligence process. To this end, the engagement shall cover information and consultation of affected stakeholders and shall be comprehensive, structural, effective, timely and culturally and gender sensitive.
7. […]. Companies shall pay particular attention to the needs of vulnerable stakeholders, and […]fully respect the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.
Annex I – Part I – subheading 1
Rights and prohibitions included in international human rights agreements
Point 19a: The rights of indigenous peoples to self-determination in accordance with Article 1 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, Article 1 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, and Article 5 of the International Convention on the Elimination of All forms of Racial Discrimination, and their right to give, modify, withhold or withdraw their free, prior, and informed consent to interventions, decisions and activities that may affect their lands, territories, resources and rights, in accordance with Article 27 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and Article 15 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights and Articles 2 and 5 of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination;
Point 20 The indigenous peoples’ right to the lands, territories and resources which they have traditionally owned, occupied or otherwise used or acquired in accordance with Articles 1 and 27 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights and Articles 1, 2 and 15 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights and Article 5 of the International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination.
Annex I – Part I – subheading 2
The International Labour Organisation’s Indigenous and Tribal Peoples’ Convention, 1989 (No. 169)
SIRGE Members’ Statements:
Galina Angarova (Buryat), Executive Director, Cultural Survival, said, ”We welcome this important step towards securing Indigenous Peoples’ inherent rights. The CSDDD has the potential to transform the EU legal system and move the human rights and environmental due diligence processes from voluntary audits and certification schemes to one of true legal accountability for non-compliance with international and national laws. The CSDDD must safeguard marginalized communities’ rights, especially Indigenous Peoples’ rights, and guarantee mechanisms for Free, Prior and Informed Consent.”
Pavel Sulyandziga (Udege), President, Batani Foundation, said “This is a significant step in ensuring that the rights of Indigenous Peoples are respected, protected, and fulfilled. The European Union has the potential to set a model for the rest of the world on how to conduct business in a just and non-harming way. As a Coalition we look forward to the final draft of the directive and its full implementation on the ground. ”
Kate R. Finn (Osage), Executive Director, First Peoples Worldwide said, “Incorporating the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples as a standard for the EU’s proposed Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive gives corporations operating in the global sector a baseline approach to assessing Indigenous Rights Risk, and it provides just and equitable means for rights holders to participate where community impacts are significant. In particular, the directive’s explicit language about Free, Prior and Informed Consent enables companies to understand ground-level impacts Indigenous Peoples face.”
Christoph Wiedmer, Co-Director, the Society for Threatened Peoples, Switzerland, said “This directive enshrines international conventions and declarations such as the UN Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, the UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights and the Indigenous and Tribal Peoples Convention ILO 169 into law, which is necessary to ensure that enterprises are accountable if they violate Indigenous Peoples’ rights.”
Jennifer Krill, Executive Director, Earthworks said “It’s imperative that the EU directive sets a high, legal standard for a company’s responsibility to conduct their environmental and human rights due diligence, so communities are protected and have legal recourse, especially as companies in the renewable energy and transportation supply chain will need to source more minerals to meet the demands for an energy transition by producing technologies like solar panels and electric vehicles. We encourage other nations, particularly the United States, to follow suit with similar legal protections for marginalized communities, including Indigenous Peoples, who will be impacted by the increased onshoring of transition minerals.”
The SIRGE Coalition’s primary goal is to elevate Indigenous leadership through the creation of a broad coalition and the promotion of constructive dialogue. In accordance with the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP), the coalition will uphold all rights of Indigenous Peoples, including their cultures, spiritual traditions, histories, and especially their rights to determine their own priorities as to their lands, territories, and resources. Indigenous leadership is essential as Indigenous Peoples conserve about 80 percent of the planet’s remaining biodiversity.
The SIRGE Coalition is staffed by an Executive Committee made up of representatives from each organization and is governed by an Indigenous Steering Committee made up of two representatives of Indigenous Peoples from each of the seven socio-cultural regions across the globe along with a global chairperson and the chairperson of the Executive Committee, chosen from Indigenous members.
The SIRGE Coalition is calling for full implementation of the UNDRIP, including the right to Free, Prior and Informed Consent, in all endeavors related to the extraction, mining, production, consumption, sale, and recycling of transition and rare earth minerals around the world.
The electric vehicle supply chains are neither green nor just — but they are crucial organizing spaces, activists say.
Aglobal boom in the production of electric vehicles (EVs) propelled by battery power instead of internal combustion engines is imminent. Worldwide, around 14 percent of all new cars sold in 2022 were electric, up from less than 5 percent in 2020. In the U.S., electric car sales increased from 0.2 percent in 2011 to 4.6 percent in 2021, and then jumped to 8 percent in 2022. Analysts predict that number could rise to 40 percent or more by 2030.
But the shift away from fossil fuel-powered vehicles, while broadly welcome, raises numerous other questions about the production process behind EVs.
For instance, will the carbon-intensive production of the steel that makes electric vehicles also be decarbonized? Will the rights of Indigenous communities disproportionately impacted by the extraction of critical minerals be respected, including their prerogative to withhold consent around mining projects? Will new jobs respect the rights of workers, including their right to organize into unions?
Earlier this year, a new network called Lead the Charge, comprised of several advocacy organizations, came together to address these concerns and pressure automakers to account for climate and environmental justice, labor and Indigenous rights issues. The goal is to ensure that, from the beginning, the world-defining transition to EVs will accelerate a categorical shift away from climate-destroying fossil fuels and advance goals around basic rights, especially for Indigenous communities and workers.
By focusing on automakers, whose decisions hold immense leverage over the future of crucial global supply chains, Lead the Charge hopes to advance a just and fossil-free future across the entire supply chain — not just around what comes out of exhaust pipes.
“We want to make sure that the transition is not just shifting tailpipe emissions to other emissions and abuses throughout the production side of the supply chain or exacerbating existing issues,” said Erika Thi Patterson, auto supply chain campaign director for Public Citizen’s Climate Program.
In addition to Public Citizen, members of Lead the Charge include the Sunrise Project, Mighty Earth, First Peoples Worldwide, Cultural Survival, Sierra Club, and other groups.
Lead the Charge
Simply put, there’s no way to address the climate crisis without decarbonizing auto transportation. Passenger vehicles account for around 15 percent of all greenhouse gas emissions globally.
Of course, this means moving away from vehicles powered by burning fossil fuel and toward transportation run on fossil-free energy sources. But when it comes to more fully decarbonizing the total emissions released by automobiles and advancing a just transition, that’s just a start.
Electric vehicles are the final link in a vast global supply chain that currently involves the carbon-intensive production of raw materials like steel and aluminum that contribute enormously to global warming, as well as mining that involves practices that often run roughshod over the rights of Indigenous people and workers. According to one report, the manufacturing and supply chain for EVs must reduce greenhouse gas emissions by 81 percent by 2032 to keep at the 1.5 degrees Celsius Paris Agreement goal.
This makes auto supply chains more than sequential lines of production whose end results are vehicles. Rather, they are sites where the battle for climate, racial and economic justice is playing out, making them crucial organizing spaces for anyone who cares about equality, rights and sustainability.
Automakers sell around 80 million cars a year globally. Their production needs to structure entire global supply chains. Steel, for example, makes up more than half of the average vehicle. This gives automakers immense leverage to set terms for purchasing requirements within those supply chains.
For the Lead the Charge campaign, this all adds up to a sense of urgency, not merely to push slow-moving auto giants to ditch fossil fuel-powered vehicles more quickly, but to ensure that, amid a once-in-a-lifetime transition to a new world of electric vehicles, the emerging supply chains respect and protect Indigenous and worker rights, and show a commitment to decarbonization that goes beyond only tailpipe emissions.
The problems in the current auto supply chain are multiple, says the campaign.
The materials that go into auto production — aluminum, steel, batteries — are themselves the end products of production chains with huge carbon footprints. The steel sector, for example, is behind 8 to 11 percent of annual global greenhouse gas emissions, and its production relies heavily on coal-fired energy.
“When mining companies come to the territories of Indigenous people … the resources leave, without any or very little economic remuneration…. But of course, the environmental degradation stays.”
“Electric is really just the start,” said Matthew Groch, a senior director on heavy industry at Mighty Earth, a climate advocacy group and a member of the Lead the Charge network. He points out that steel and aluminum “make up 40 to 60 percent of embodied emissions for motor vehicles.”
“We’ve had conversations with automakers,” says Groch, “where steel and aluminum decarbonization in their supply chain just isn’t something they’re even considering.” (Mighty Earth and Public Citizen have taken action calling on steelmakers to move toward green steel that relies on decarbonizedproduction.)
Moreover, the reliance on mineral extraction — lithium, nickel and cobalt, for example — clashes with Indigenous rights because vast amounts of mineral deposits are located on or near Indigenous lands. The global auto chain also has a checkered record on workers’ and human rights.
With all this, Lead the Charge is making three core demands around how future automobiles should be produced: equitably, with a respect for Indigenous rights, workers and local communities; sustainably, with a commitment to upholding environmental health and biodiversity through the supply chain; and fossil-free, meaning “100% electric and made with a fossil fuel-free supply chain.”
To illustrate their view on how most auto companies are faring — or failing — on these goals, Lead the Charge released a scorecard earlier this year — featured in a Washington Postguide for buying electric vehicles — that rates 18 automakers on a range of metrics tied to “commitments, progress, and concrete action” toward fossil-free and environmentally sustainable supply chains and in upholding Indigenous and workers’ rights across supply chains.
Many of the scorecard results are very low. Scores are weighted toward indications toward “implementation” over mere gestures or promises. (For more details on both of these, see the scorecard’s methodology section.)
“The Industry’s Biggest Climate Laggard”
One of the lower-scoring companies is Toyota, the world’s second-biggest automaker.
This might surprise some readers. Afterall, Toyota is well-known for its hybrid Prius, long imagined as a greener alternative to entirely gas-powered cars. But campaigners with the Lead the Charge say Toyota’s association with sustainability is sorely outdated.
“While many other companies have come out with new EV technologies, Toyota has continued to double down on their investments in hybrid technology,” said Thi Patterson.
“Because they’ve invested so much in their hybrid technology, they’re trying to prolong the transition to EVs,” she said, noting that customers are “often unaware that there are cleaner, zero-emission options out there.”
Toyota scored a dismal 6 percent on the Lead the Charge scorecard.
“Toyota continues to be the industry’s biggest climate laggard,” says Lead the Charge. “It’s among several automakers that have made the least progress on the EV transition: Battery-powered electric vehicles comprised less than 1% of the company’s total sales in 2022.”
All this has significant repercussions. As one of the giants of the global auto industry, Thi Patterson says that what Toyota does can have “tremendous influence over global supply chains.”
Moreover, she says, Toyota is a major anti-climate lobbying group. According to the nonprofit think tank Influence Map, Toyota, despite its green messaging, has had “mostly negative engagement globally on policy mandating the full electrification of the automotive sector.” For example, Toyota has opposed or “appeared to oppose” national policies to phase out internal combustion engines in Canada, the U.K., Japan, New Zealand and California, according to Influence Map, and it did not sign on to a 2021 pledge by several major automakers to phase out internal combustion engine-powered vehicles in leading markets by 2035 and globally by 2040.
Public Citizen and other groups are stepping up the pressure on Toyota, which has a new CEO and is facing growing pressure from investors around climate issues. They sent a March 30 letter to the company demanding that it “phase out internal combustion engine vehicles (including hybrids and plug-in hybrids) in the U.S. and Europe by 2030 and globally by 2035” and that it “require 100% renewable energy use throughout [its] supply chains globally by 2035.”
A week later, Toyota announced an update to its EV buildout strategy, saying it aims to sell 1.5 million battery electric vehicles annually by 2026. Public Citizen called it “a modest improvement for an auto giant that lobbied for decades to delay the EV transition,” and “a mere baby step considering the price we will pay for Toyota’s failure to fully reverse course on the internal combustion engine.”
Public Citizen and allies from Jobs to Move America deliver a petition with over 6,500 signatures to Japan’s Los Angeles Consulate demanding that the country stop allowing Toyota to halt climate action at home and across the globe. JUSTIN KNIGHT Public Citizen and allies from Mighty Earth and the Sierra Club deliver a parallel petition calling on Japan to stop Toyota from halting climate action at home and across the globe, at the U.S.-Japan Embassy in Washington, D.C. JUSTIN KNIGHT
“Our Fundamental Right of Self-Determination”
One of the lowest-scoring areas among all automakers analyzed by Lead the Charge was around Indigenous rights. Indeed, two-thirds of all 18 automakers scored a zero in this area.
This is alarming, several Lead the Charge partners told Truthout, since Indigenous communities are disproportionately impacted by the shift to EVs, and specifically the transition’s reliance on mining critical minerals needed to make vehicle batteries.
One new study estimates that, among 30 “energy transition minerals and metals” that “form the material base for the energy transition,” more than half of this resource base globally “is located on or near the lands of Indigenous and peasant peoples.” Another study finds that within the U.S., “97% of nickel, 89% of copper, 79% of lithium and 68% of cobalt reserves and resources” — all critical energy-transition minerals — “are located within 35 miles of Native American reservations.”
Kate Finn is the executive director of First Peoples Worldwide, which is part of the Lead the Charge network. A member of the Osage Nation, Finn has written extensively on violations of Indigenous rights by extractive industries mining for energy-transition minerals.
“Indigenous peoples in the U.S. have engaged with mining companies for 400 years,” she told Truthout. “It’s not new what happens when mining companies come to the territories of Indigenous people. Indigenous leaders are often not even consulted about what happens on their lands, and then the resources leave, without any or very little economic remuneration,” Finn said.
“But of course, the environmental degradation stays,” she said.
However, Finn says, “we have an opportunity now to not repeat this pattern in the green economy.”
To this end, a key demand of Lead the Charge is that automakers uphold Indigenous rights and self-determination by honoring the processing of Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC).
Spelled out in the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, FPIC posits that Indigenous communities have the right to grant or withhold consent around projects that impact their land and resources, and that this decision should come after a substantive, prior period of consultation and dialogue. Indigenous communities can also negotiate the terms of approval for any project and withdraw their consent at any time.
Ultimately, FPIC is a mechanism to protect Indigenous self-determination.
Finn calls FPIC “the global consensus on minimum standards to respect the rights and well-being of Indigenous peoples globally” and “the safeguard of a whole basket of rights” for over 5,000 different Indigenous entities around the world.
Galina Angarova, the executive director of the Indigenous-led nonprofit Cultural Survival and a member of the Buryat people, the largest Indigenous group in Siberia, calls FPIC “a very specific right of Indigenous peoples that flows from our fundamental right of self-determination.”
Angarova says the SIRGE Coalition formed after the Nornickel disaster of 2020 that spilled 21,000 tons of diesel into the Arctic subsoil and waters of a western Siberian region occupied by several Indigenous groups. The spill decimated water and fishing sources and hunting grounds. In the disaster’s aftermath, several groups came together to advance FPIC with private sector and governmental actors and, more broadly, to foreground Indigenous rights, self-determination and leadership in the green transition.
Angarova says the SIRGE Coalition’s goal is ensure that Free, Prior and Informed Consent is “implemented throughout the supply chain for the green economy, from the exploratory stages, to the end of the cycle, the product.”
“Unfortunately,” she says, “the initial Lead the Charge scorecard showed that, across the board, automakers are generally failing to incorporate Free, Prior and Informed Consent and Indigenous rights into their policies and to implement the practice.”
Some have raised frustrations with how corporations can approach FPIC — for example, treating it as one-way pro forma “information sharing” that glosses over Indigenous input and approval, a mere box to check before moving forward with a project.
Angarova stresses that “consultation does not equate to consent” under FPIC. Companies must have a “social license to operate” that can only be granted through the substantive and informed permission of Indigenous communities prior to the beginning of any operations.
She says that even when different actors warm up to FPIC, ensuring enforcement can be “very difficult,” and that the coalition is strategizing about how to ensure accountability. She highlights a range of injustices occurring today — for example, with a new lithium mining deal between Lithium Americas and General Motors opposed by the People of Red Mountain in Nevada.
“Indigenous lands, territories and resources are under direct threat,” says Angarova, because of the booming demand for transition metals such as copper, nickel, cobalt and lithium.
“As the demand for these minerals increases, Indigenous peoples also want to see an end to the climate crisis,” she said. “But this needs to be achieved in a way that respects their rights.”
All this begs the question: In addition to decarbonizing the auto supply chain, might a just energy transition also involve expanding modes of transportation that rely less on extraction — whether fossil fuels or critical minerals — altogether?
A recent report from the Climate and Community Project argues that lithium demand could be significantly reduced without impeding the shift away from internal combustion engines through building out public transportation. A greater role for green industrial policy and public ownership of key infrastructure could allow for planning that’s less reliant on mining the world’s critical energy-transition minerals.
Indeed, achieving a truly green and just transition will likely involve multiple and combined fronts.
At the world’s largest gathering of Indigenous peoples in New York, mining for critical minerals is at the top of the agenda as the push for the clean energy transition gains steam worldwide.
Indigenous leaders are calling on countries and companies to create binding policies and guidelines requiring the free, prior, and informed consent (FPIC) of communities over clean energy mining projects that seek to explore and extract these minerals on their lands or in ways that affect their livelihoods.
Such binding policies will be very difficult for government, companies and investors to abide by, says an executive, as it gives communities the capability to decline on highly-profitable projects and strategies part of national energy transition goals.
Indigenous leaders also highlight FPIC as a framework for partnership with such projects, including options for equitable benefit-sharing agreements or memorandum of understanding, collaboration or conservation.
NEW YORK — When Francisco Calí Tzay, the United Nations special rapporteur on the rights of Indigenous peoples, spoke at the 22nd United Nations Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, or UNPFII, he listed clean energy projects as some of the most concerning threats to their rights.
“I constantly receive information that Indigenous Peoples fear a new wave of green investments without recognition of their land tenure, management, and knowledge,” said Calí Tzay.
His statements — and those made by other delegates — at what is the world’s largest gathering of Indigenous peoples, made clear that without the free, prior, and informed consent of Indigenous people, these green projects have the capacity to seriously impede on Indigenous rights.
FPIC has always been an important topic at the UNPFII, but this year it’s taken on a renewed urgency.
“The strong push is because more and more of climate action and targets for sustainable development are impacting us,” said Joan Carling, executive director of Indigenous Peoples Rights International, an Indigenous non-profit that works to protect Indigenous peoples’ rights worldwide. Indigenous people around the world are experiencing the compounding pressures of clean energy mining projects, carbon offsets, new protected areas and large infrastructure projects on their lands as part of post-COVID-19 economic recovery efforts, according to The International Work Group for Indigenous Affairs (IWGIA) 2023 report.
As states around the world trend towards transitioning to clean energy to meet their national and international climate goals, the demand for minerals like lithium, copper and nickel needed for batteries that power the energy revolution are projected to skyrocket. The demand could swell fourfold by 2040 and by conservative estimates, pull in $1.7 trillion in mining investments. Although Indigenous delegates say they support clean energy projects, one of the issues is their land rights: more than half of the projects extracting these minerals currently are on or near lands where Indigenous peoples or peasants live, according to an analysis published in Nature.
A cobalt mine in central Africa. Image by Fairphone via Flickr (CC BY-NC 2.0).
This can either lead to their eviction from territories, loss of livelihoods or the deforestation and degradation of surrounding ecosystems.
“And yet […] we are not part of the discussion,” said Carling. “That’s why I call it green colonialism — the [energy] transition without the respect of Indigenous rights is another form of colonialism.”
However, standing at the doorway of a just clean energy transition is FPIC, say Indigenous delegates. FPIC is the cornerstone of international human rights standards like the U.N. Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) and the International Labor Organization Convention 169 (ILO Convention 169). Though more than one hundred countries have adopted UNDRIP, this standard is not legally binding. It is rather an instrument to interpret national laws. ILO Convention 169 is legally binding, but only to the 24 states that have ratified the convention.
Because of this, delegates are calling on countries and companies to create binding policy and guidelines that require FPIC for all projects that affect Indigenous people and their lands, as well as financial, territorial and material remedies for when companies and countries fail to do so. According to Carling, this will be the mandatory inclusion of FPIC in international standards such as the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises and putting more pressure on national governments to implement policy reforms that include accountability.
However, there is undoubtedly some pushback. The free prior, informed consent process can lead to a wide variety of outcomes, including the right for communities to decline a highly profitable project, which can often be difficult for countries, companies, and investors to abide by, explains Mary Beth Gallagher, the director of engagement of investment at Domini Impact Investments, who spoke at a side event on shareholder advocacy.
Indigenous Sámi delegates from Norway drew attention to their need for legally enforceable FPIC protection as they continued to protest the Fosen Vind project farm that the country’s Supreme Court ruled was violating their rights. “We have come to learn the hard way that sustainability doesn’t end colonialism,” said a Sámi delegate during the main panel on Tuesday.
In the United States, the Reno-Sparks Indian Colony, the People of Red Mountain, and members of the Fort McDermitt Tribe filed lawsuits against the Bureau of Land Management for approving the permits for an open-pit lithium mine without proper consultation with the tribes. In the Colombian Amazon, the Inga Indigenous community presented a successful appeal for lack of prior consultation from a Canadian company that plans to mine copper, molybdenum, and other metals in their highly biodiverse territory.
Consternation over governments and multinational companies setting aside FPIC has long extended over other sectors, like conservation and monoculture plantations for key cash crops. In Peru, the Shipibo-Konibo Indigenous people are resisting several large protected areas that overlap with their territory and were put in place without prior consultation. In Tanzania and Kenya, the Maasai are being actively evicted from their landsfor a trophy hunting and safari reserve. Indigenous Ryukyuan delegates condemned the ongoing use of their traditional lands and territories by the Japanese government and the United States military for U.S. military bases without their free, prior, and informed consent.
Eyes on the private sector
While delegates put a lot of emphasis on the lack of FPIC, they put equal emphasis on FPIC as a crucial part of the long-term sustainability of energy projects.
“FPIC is more than just a checklist for companies looking to develop projects on Indigenous lands,” said Carling. “It is a framework for partnership, including options for equitable benefit sharing agreements or memorandum of understanding, collaboration or conservation.”
Mother and son harvest lemons from their plantation in Chile. This family of farmers obtained 10 solar panels, from the “Solar Energy Project for Farmers” provided by CONADI (National Corporation for Indigenous Development). Image by IMF Photo/Tamara Merino.
The focus of this year’s conference has emphasized the growing role of FPIC in the private sector. Investors and developers are increasingly considering the inclusion of FPIC into their human rights due diligence standards. Select countries such as Canada have implemented UNDRIP in full, although First Nation groups pointed out irregularities in how it is being implemented. The EU is proposing including specific mandatory rights to FPIC in its corporate sustainability due diligence regulation. Side events at the UNPFII focused on topics like transmitting FPIC Priorities to the private sector and using shareholder advocacy to increase awareness of FPIC.
Gallagher of Domini Impact Investments says companies have a responsibility to respect human rights, which includes FPIC. “If they have a human rights commission or they have a commitment in their policies not to do land grabs, we have to hold them to account for that.”
In 2021, the world’s largest asset manager, BlackRock, published an expectation that companies “obtain (and maintain) the free, prior, and informed consent of Indigenous peoples for business decisions that affect their rights.” Large banks like Credit Agricole have included FPIC in their corporate social responsibility policy. But in most cases, even when companies have a FPIC policy, it doesn’t conform to the standard outlined in UNDRIP and is not legally binding.
“It doesn’t do the work it’s supposed to do to protect self-determination. It becomes a check-the-box procedure that’s solely consultations and stakeholder consultation instead of protection of rights and self-determination,” says Kate Finn, director at First Peoples Worldwide.
Lithium mine at Salinas Grandes salt desert Jujuy province, Argentina. Image courtesy of Earthworks.
If communities aren’t giving their consent, the company has to respect that, says Gallagher. “There’s obviously points of tension where investors have different agendas and priorities but ultimately, it’s about centering Indigenous leadership and working through that.”
Not properly abiding by FPIC can be costly to companies in countries that operate where it is a legal instrument. It comes with risks of losing their social operation to license, and financial damages. According to a study First Peoples Worldwide, Energy Transfer Partners and banks that financed the now-completed Dakota Access Pipeline, lost billions due to construction delays, account closures, and contract losses after they failed to obtain consent from the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe in the United States.
Ultimately, Indigenous people need to be part of decision-making from the beginning of any project, especially clean energy projects mining for transition minerals on their territories, said Carling. “For us, land is life, and we have a right to decide over what happens on our land.”
Russia’s invasion of sovereign Ukraine opened the eyes of many to the imperial nature of the russian state. The expansion of the empire and strengthening of the “russkiy mir” ideology are, without a doubt, the key reasons for the Kremlin-perpetrated bloodshed and genocide in Ukraine.
The colonial and imperial nature of this war, in turn, amplified the voices of indigenous peoples of the lands colonized and appropriated by the russian state who have been subjected to racial discrimination and other systemic discriminatory barriers.
In defiance of these obstacles, many of us are getting involved in anti-war activism, uniting into foundations and movements and helping conscientious objectors to return home. We also work to fight propaganda in our regions where political repressions often prove to be far more rigorous than elsewhere in russia, but yet remain largely unnoticed by the general public.
Unfortunately, both the russian regime and the so-called liberal muscovite opposition treat the indigenous activists the same: they either choose to ignore us or try to use us as the pawns in their political games. While trying to be heard by the regime is no longer viable, to the liberal opposition we would like to say:
Nothing about us without us
— 1 —
WE, the indigenous and the decolonial activists, DEMAND to be included in all public discussions about our possible futures.
We understand that no one ethnic, national or decolonial initiative can solely represent the will of its peoples. But all such movements, without an exception, have an inextricable bond with their peoples and their land, which makes their expertise unique and essential.
The indigenous peoples and/or natives of national republics among us remember our histories. We remember that political decisions made without the involvement of the people in question always brought about political repressions, discrimination and colonial violence.
We consider this decision-making model to be undemocratic and deeply vicious.
— 2 —
WE ARE CONVINCED that a simple representation is not enough. Representatives of indigenous peoples, national republics and decolonial initiatives must be included in all decision-making processes and processes of distribution of material and social capital.
We consider the sudden interest in the decolonial agenda expressed by certain representatives of the liberal muscovite opposition to be a symbolic gesture rather than a sincere act of solidarity and support. We don’t want to become puppet activists whose presence is required for nothing more than a pretty picture.
True representation is not just a simple inclusion. True representation means participation on all levels of decision-making. True representation is much more than listing someone with a non-Russian name among your allies or having a person with non-Slavic facial features at a negotiation table.
— 3 —
WE ASK to speak of indigenous peoples without racist tropes, cliches, generalizations and exoticization. Here, we are not only talking about blatantly racist language but also about the words that reinforce colonial hierarchies, including using the word “minorities” when speaking of indigenous peoples or addressing people as “russkie” (ethnic Russians) instead of “rossiyane” (russian nationals regardless of ethnicity), etc.
We also ask to refrain from portraying the indigenous peoples as mysterious and exotic others who need to be civilized, enlightened and ridden of their savage habits.
We love our national dress and other elements of our material culture and ask those in question to do away with appropriating them for the exoticization of content they produce.
— 4 —
WE CALL for solidarity.
We ask to show solidarity with us not only through verbal condemnation of, but also by halting cooperation with any entities, organizations, initiatives or individuals (politicians, bloggers etc.) who systematically refuse to follow the principles outlined above and turn a deaf ear to public criticism.
We believe that providing those people and entities with material sponsorship or a platform or amplifying their voices in any other way increases the pressure on indigenous activist movements and makes their representatives ever more vulnerable.
WE NEED YOUR SUPPORT
Please share this letter and image sets on your social media. You can download them from @decolonialsolidarity Telegram channel.
A. Choybsonov, Buryat activist A. Erendzhenov, Oirat activist A. Gomboeva, decolonial researcher A. Yangulbaev, Chechen lawyer and human rights defender B. Matune, activists, Asians of Russia D. Badmaev, Oirat activist D. Khovalyg, Tuvan activist L. Latypova, Tatar activist L. Mongush, Tuvan activist S. Kondakova, Yukagir activist S. Jigjitova, Buryat activist V. Maladaeva, Buryat activist Asians of Russia Beda Media Editorial Buryad Global Free Kalmykia Free Yakutia New Tuva
Signatories:
M. Alexeeva, activist, creative producer, author A. Arsenian, theatrical producer and curator M. Vjushkova, scientist M. Rafail ulı Ganeyev, Tatar language and queer activist V. Dambaeva, accountant D. Tsyui, journalist and Buryad activist M. Zakharov, writer, film curator and translator A. Zueva, journalist from Buryatia A. Diudina, Suomen Inkeri-liitto E. Ishchenko, curator and researcher A. Kim, product designer V. Kravtsova, researcher at Feminist Translocalities M. Kurilov, curator and researcher M. Nasybullova, Tatar-Siberian artist V. Nore Mähäbbät, activist A. Makichyan, climate activist S. Manakina, activist N. Mendyaev, Oirat-Kalmyk activist of Free Kalmykia D. Mityushin, developer A. Mongush, activist N. Mongush, activist A. Kugasova, Sakha activist V. Dzhunko, Sakha activist Ğ. Ğaliev, Bashqort activist E. Ochir, Oirat-Mongol activist V. Petrova, activist RDS P. Rapoport, molecular biologist D. Rasuleva, Tatar writer and poet V. Son, activist of Invisible Rainbow M. Tay, Tatar trans activist A–M. Tesfaye, activist of Queer Svit D. Torokhova, activist of Vsio Odnoznachno V. Choinova, Sakha activist, S. Shestakova, researcher A. Shevchenko, activist of Voice of free Russia A. Vogel, German leftist and queer activist Zh. Batuev, citizen of Buryad-Mongolia D. Dugarova, doctor M. Kruchinski, curator at Typography Collective, researcher V. Charniauski, decolonial activist from Belarus A. Takkeze, researcher from Tatarstan B. Takshina, Altai-German musician Y. Tannagasheva, Shor activist G. Konstandi, founder of the Voices from the Drina project. M. Sarycheva, Bashqortostan-born researcher and cultural worker A. Bogomolova, feminist Z. Bocheeva, activist N. Shamgunova, Tatar researcher of history of empire A. Saifullin, researcher E. Atlasova, Sakha activist L. Zhirkova, Sakha activist P. Zherebtsov, curator S. Atlasova, Sakha activist I. Dzhunko, activist from Republic Sakha V. Kondakov, Sakha activist A. Burliuk, curator T. Baktemir, Astrakhan regionalist G. Iakhiaev, Tabasaranian, software developer m. irekleh, queer and decolonial analyst of russian cinema and tv C. Pislari, activist, designer H.Otchyk, Belarusian/Turkmen activist, poet A. Khachikian, journalist Decolonize Russia solidarity network @decolonize_russia DOXA Feminist Transclocalities Indigenous Peoples Movement global coalition Invisible Rainbow Queer Svit Voices of Indigenous People of Russia International Committee of Indigenous Peoples of Russia (ICIPR)
Tatiana Tintino, Verena Manolis and Cheyenne Coxon
For indigenous and local communities, climate finance is often an unwelcoming space. Climate finance programs are technical, with complicated methodologies and legal agreements. Most do not disperse funds directly to indigenous peoples and local communities (IPLCs), leaving millions stuck in bureaucratic distribution systems. A minimal percentage of aid money for climate mitigation reaches IPLCs , despite initiatives that pledge billions to the cause – some estimate as little as under 1% goes directly to communities.
With momentum and interest in biodiversity and carbon offsets gaining after the UN Biodiversity Conference in December 2022, and the Lula administration in Brazil signaling intention to act on conservation and human rights, it is essential that IPLCs have the resources they need to navigate new opportunities and rapidly changing contexts.
On February 14th and 15th in Cacoal, Rondônia, Brazil, our Communities and Territorial Governance Initiative held a seminar on climate finance and Indigenous Territories, in partnership with Greendata. The goal of the Cacoal gathering was to exchange ideas and increase community knowledge on REDD+ and other jurisdictional and private climate finance mechanisms, including voluntary carbon markets. Our team presented updated information on climate finance, discussed opportunities for community engagement that prioritize safeguards and indigenous rights, and conducted trainings with indigenous and non-indigenous experts.
Credit: Jony Wagner
Over 100 participants joined from across Brazil, including representatives of 25 original peoples of the Brazilian Amazon; members of indigenous organizations, such as the Coordination of Indigenous Organizations of the Brazilian Amazon (COIAB), the Federation of Indigenous Peoples and Organizations of Mato Grosso (FEPOIMT), the National Articulation of Indigenous Women Warriors of Ancestrality (ANMIGA), the Association of Indigenous Warrior Women of Rondônia (AGIR), and the Indigenous Youth of Rondônia (JIR); legal experts; and representatives from regional and national agencies, including the Coordinating Body for Indigenous Peoples of Rondônia (COPIN), the State Secretariat for Environmental Development of the State of Rondônia (SEDAM), the Federal Public Ministry (MPF), Wildlife Works (WWC), the Pro-Indian Commission of Acre (CPI-AC), and the Platform Partners for the Amazon (PPA).
“In order for indigenous organizations and communities to evaluate climate finance opportunities, assess their territories’ carbon stocks and flows, negotiate with governments and private carbon market actors, understand their legal rights and the regulatory environment, and so forth, they need to have quality, tailored information and the appropriate tools and capacities,” says Beto Borges, Director of Forest Trends’ Communities and Territorial Governance Initiative.
“Forest Trends is here to support this information sharing, and this seminar is an important part of that training.”
Four key lessons from this event for the global climate finance community:
1. Climate finance will flow into communities at the speed of trust, and trust requires information.
“At present, many companies do a poor job of conveying their intentions with communities, and they make promises that can’t be fulfilled,” says Nedina Luisa Yawanawa, an indigenous teacher from the Rio Gregório Indigenous Land in Acre, Brazil.
Nedina believes it is essential to have more training initiatives made available to communities that emphasize the protection of community rights and resources. Community members having a deep understanding of the consultation process and the relationship between companies and communities is essential to setting expectations and creating an equitable partnership from day one.
“It’s no use just saying that [communities] need to be careful,” says Nedina. “We can’t go on accepting the first company [that makes a proposal]. We have the [land and resources], so we have to be comfortable making the best choice…We need to operate in a way that all communities receiving proposals are aware of the risks, and if they are going to move forward, they do so consciously and with preparedness on community management, accompaniment of important institutions, like FUNAI and the MPF, and legal support so that the communities are not alone.”
“Information on jurisdictional REDD+ and carbon markets is often presented in very technical or legal language, and not necessarily in indigenous peoples’ first language,” said Marcio Halla, Director of the Territorial Governance Facility and Economic Initiatives Lead at Forest Trends. “More concerningly, we have sometimes seen information on risks de-emphasized in proposals to communities or hidden in the fine print.”
To better equip communities with the knowledge needed to evaluate and negotiate carbon finance opportunities, Forest Trends just launched a new project, with support from the Climate and Land Use Alliance, that will offer carbon finance training programs, data, and technical assistance to indigenous communities in Brazil and Panama. We hope to expand this work to additional geographies in the near future.
Credit: Jony Wagner
2. Communities can speak for themselves in global fora.
Marciely Ayap Tupari, secretary coordinator of Coordination of Indigenous Organizations of the Brazilian Amazon (COIAB) and active member of several movements in the state of Rondônia, said that the best way for the international community to support the struggle of indigenous peoples in defense of their territories is to bring them into the discussion.
“Many times, when we participate in these international meetings, we see little participation of indigenous leaders who are working with the territories. We need to participate in these spaces. Not only the leaders, but women and youth [as well] … We need to be there to talk about what our demands really are.”
Upfront investment is needed to strengthen IPLC governance so they can continue to protect their territories and participate as equal partners in climate and conservation finance. Vehicles like the Territorial Governance Facility[link in Spanish] can provide financial and technical support for governance capacity-building.
3. The relationship between communities and jurisdictional and national governments is being rebuilt.
A new administration in Brazil offers opportunities to begin building trust between indigenous communities and government agencies, after a long history characterized by neglect, colonialism, and outright aggression.
Looking forward, regional, and national governments can play a critical role helping to protect indigenous rights and promoting equitable benefit sharing of any value generated by projects. Leonardo Trevizani Caberlon, prosecutor for the Federal Public Ministry (MPF) of Rondônia, explains, “One of the roles of the Federal Public Prosecutor’s Office is defending indigenous peoples and enforcing the laws [already in place to protect their rights]. The MPF also monitors any projects that involve indigenous populations, and if the indigenous people have an interest in consultation, a [second] opinion, or monitoring, the MPF is at their disposal. The MPF will also have the important role of supervising and investigating any irregularities that may occur during the course of these procedures and could request conviction of those who may be [in violation].”
“We are encouraged that at the Federal level, Marina Silva is back as Minister of Environment and Climate Change, and the new Ministry of Indigenous Peoples is led by Sonia Guajajara, the first indigenous person to head a Ministry in Brazil. It is also the first time in Brazilian history that FUNAI is presided by an indigenous person: Joênia Wapichana, another prominent indigenous leader, who is completing her term as the first indigenous woman deputy in the Brazilian Federal Congress,” added Beto Borges.
4. Public and private finance need to align with indigenous cultures, not the other way around.
Marciely Ayap Tupari explains why the seminar’s conversations are so important for shaping how companies should interact with indigenous partners: “The whole world sees that indigenous peoples protect the forest without [asking for] money. We do it in our own way because nature is our life. Seeing this, companies often end up coming to us with a proposal, wanting to finance, wanting to supposedly protect nature, but in their own way. When we explain our vision as indigenous peoples, many do not understand. That is why we talked about this issue of companies enticing leaders, offering money to implement carbon credits, but without really talking to the people who live there. This is worrying.”
Beto Borges also emphasizes the need for culturally appropriate jurisdictional finance, adding that state governments should also adapt how they interact with indigenous communities: “While these are promising developments at the Federal level to uphold the rights of indigenous peoples, including their carbon ownership rights, we hope to see the same level of recognition and commitment by the state governments in the Amazon. Most of the state governments in the Brazilian Amazon submitted proposals to the LEAF program; it is very important, however, that they consult with indigenous peoples and involve them in the design and implementation of safeguards and fair benefit sharing mechanisms in jurisdictional climate funding. Otherwise, jurisdictional funding will fail indigenous peoples.”
A set of core principles for working with forest communities on carbon offsets and conservation projects was recently published by the Peoples Forest Partnership, a coalition of indigenous organizations, companies, investors, and nonprofits (Forest Trends is the current Secretariat). We believe these offer a useful model for the entire climate finance field to follow in partnering with indigenous and traditional communities.
Credit: Jony Wagner
Our priorities in 2023
Our team has come out of the Cacoal gathering even more energized to keep supporting our IPLC partners with these priorities. This year, we are ramping up our existing resources geared towards providing accessible, culturally appropriate information and capacity building on climate finance programs. In late 2021, we launched the Territorial Governance Facility with four IPLC organizations to strengthen the governance capacity necessary for successful participation in climate finance. February marked the beginning of a new initiative with the Climate and Land Use Alliance to co-create technical tools and other training resources with IPLCs to navigate carbon markets. We look forward to continuing our work with indigenous partners in Brazil and around the world to prioritize the resources, information, and direct support they are calling for.
Forests flourish under community control, and NASA has the satellite imagery to show it.
It might sound counterintuitive, but empowering locals to manage forests is an excellent way to preserve them. That strategy can even bring dwindling forests roaring back, NASA Earth Observatory’s recent “image of the day” shows us.
NASA published a set of maps yesterday showing the incredible recovery Nepal’s forests have made over the past several decades thanks to a plan to put nearby communities in charge of conservation. You can see thin forest cover in the early 1990s, followed by a lush resurgence by the late 2010s. Forest cover almost doubled across the country between 1992 and 2016, the satellite imagery shows.
“Once communities started actively managing the forests, they grew back mainly as a result of natural regeneration,” Jefferson Fox, deputy director of research at the East-West Center in Hawaii, says in NASA’s blog post. Fox was on the NASA-funded research team that documented the remarkable comeback.
Forest cover across Nepal in 1992 and 2016. Image: NASA Earth Observatory
In the late 1970s, a World Bank report issued a dire prediction that forests would mostly vanish from Nepal’s hills by 1990. Its plains would be similarly barren by 2000. After being nationalized decades earlier, forests were rapidly falling to agriculture and chopped down for firewood. But the country changed course in 1978, when it launched a community forestry program.
The plan was to put local groups in charge of managing large areas of land. That allowed people to use the forests to gather food or firewood, for example. But they were also charged with developing plans to make sure those resources stayed plentiful. It was in their best interest to keep forests healthy.
Now, some 22,000 local groups manage roughly 2.3 million hectares (5,683,424 acres) of community forests in Nepal. That’s about 3 million households maintaining around one-third of all of Nepal’s forests. And they’ve had incredible results. Forest cover in the community-governed area of Devithan grew from 12 percent to 92 percent over a few decades.
Forest cover east of Kathmandu. Image: NASA Earth Observatory
Sure, forests are in dire straits across the world, and repairing them brings the added benefit of trapping carbon dioxide that would otherwise heat up the planet. But so many forestry projects fail without community buy-in. Seedlings die and trees are cut down, often because there isn’t a plan in place to manage them for the long haul.
In worst-case scenarios, Indigenous peoples and other residents have been kicked off their landsin the name of conservation. What decades of experience and research actually show us is that they were the best stewards of the forest in the first place.
At COP26, the United Nations climate conference in 2021, 22 philanthropies and governments pledged $1.7 billion to support Indigenous and community forest tenure as a way to address climate change, but a recent annual report reveals that only 7% of the funds disbursed in the pledge’s first year went directly to Indigenous and community organizations.
In response to an overall trend in which little climate-related aid goes directly to these organizations, they have banded together to develop funding mechanisms to which big donors can contribute. These organizations then control the distribution of money to smaller organizations, allowing more control over which priorities are funded.
In support of these efforts, the U.S.-based Climate and Land Use Alliance, which is a collective of several private foundations, is working with a broader group of philanthropic climate donors to develop “a ‘plumbing’ system for this finance” through the Forests, People, Climate Collaborative.
Indigenous leaders say more money overall is needed to protect forests and help to mitigate the effects of climate change, but the 2021 pledge has opened the door to finding ways to involve Indigenous and community organizations in how funds are spent.
Protecting forests by investing in Indigenous peoples and local communities, or IPLCs, is increasingly seen as one of the most effective ways to mitigate climate change and halt the global loss of biodiversity. The trouble is that a lot of the funding flow doesn’t reach the IPLC-led organizations that can tackle these issues, says Lindsey Allen, executive director of the Climate and Land Use Alliance (CLUA).
“Right now there’s incredible dissonance between what the evidence shows works for protecting tropical forests and supporting communities, and where the majority of funding flows,” Allen said in an email to Mongabay. “This has to change. It is impossible to end deforestation without a much larger portion of funding reaching organizations in tropical forest countries, and especially Indigenous and community organizations.”
In response to this disconnect, IPLC organizations are banding together to develop funding mechanisms to which big donors can contribute. In support of these efforts, U.S.-based CLUA, which itself is a collective of several private foundations, is working with a broader group of philanthropic climate donors to develop what Allen calls “a ‘plumbing’ system for this finance.” The goal is to move funds more effectively to places where they can have the most impact.
Several Chelemeras, a group of local women who are restoring mangroves in Mexico, look out on the nursery before submerging themselves in the lagoon. Image by Caitlin Cooper for Mongabay.
Scientific research has brought the important role that IPLCs play in managing forests into sharp focus. Traditional lands hold 36% of remaining intact forests, which contain vast amounts of carbon critical to meeting global climate goals. But in many places, IPLC rights aren’t legally recognized. These organizations also face a number of hurdles blocking the path of financing from donors’ endowments. IPLC organizations often can’t comply with monitoring and reporting requirements, and the funding they receive may not be flexible enough to be tailored to on-the-ground priorities.
What’s more, IPLC organizations are often small and too numerous for donors to interact with directly. That can make communication difficult, said Levi Sucre Romero, an Indigenous Bribri leader from Costa Rica, in a recorded text message to Mongabay.
“We realized that it is difficult [or] impossible to work with everyone or talk to everyone at the same time,” said Sucre, also the co-president of the Global Alliance of Territorial Communities. GATC represents traditional communities in 24 countries covering 60% of Earth’s tropical forests.
Funding has begun to flow toward climate projects, especially since the announcement of a $1.7 billion commitment from governments and private funders announced at the 2021 U.N. climate conference. But IPLC leaders and Indigenous rights advocates have raised concerns that only 7% of the $321 million delivered in the pledge’s first year went straight to IPLC groups.
Sucre said projects aimed at restoring forests, thereby securing the carbon they contain and the biodiversity they support, do need more money. The Rights and Resources Initiative figures it will cost $10 billion to formalize IPLC claims by 2030 to limit the rise in global temperatures. But, Sucre said, the 2021 pledge has opened the door to new conversations around funding and helped IPLCs understand what has been blocking access to that money.
On Mount Mantalingahan in the Philippines, where local communities harvest resin from almaciga (Agathis philippinensis) trees, the challenging access to the mountain and the restriction imposed by both the government and Indigenous communities contribute to the landscape’s conservation. Image by Keith Anthony Fabro for Mongabay.
One response from the global IPLC community has been to create a set of geographically focused funds that act as clearinghouses for donor funds, distributing large grants in smaller tranches to local organizations. IPLC-led funds, including the Mesoamerican Territorial Fund in Central America, the Nusantara Fund in Indonesia, and the Podáali Fund in Brazil, are built around the Shandia platform, which centers on IPLC control of how the money intended to address climate change and land degradation is spent.
IPLC leadership around these issues has spurred donors to create complementary systems that link directly with these IPLC-designed mechanisms. CLUA, for example, is working with 13 private philanthropies on the Forests, People, Climate Collaborative to bring more money to IPLCs and to funnel as much as possible through these IPLC-governed mechanisms.
“We believe that most often, [territorial funds] understand, can access, and are best placed to support the landscape of local organizations in ways multi-million-dollar funders can’t,” Allen said.
The 13 private donors involved have committed a combined $780 million toward climate projects in tropical forest countries, specifically in the Amazon, the Congo Basin and Indonesia. They hope to raise a total of $1.2 billion over the next five years. Allen said the group plans to utilize existing territorial funds and help create new ones where necessary.
Forests, People, Climate will also work to lower the hurdles that IPLC groups face. Allen said IPLC groups often struggle with donor requirements around reporting on the progress of funded projects, which diverts energy and resources away from the actual work that will benefit climate mitigation.
“We’ve heard the Global Alliance of Territorial Communities describe it best when they ask for ‘results-based reporting’ rather than ‘receipts-based reporting,’” she said. “To put it another way: would funders rather use the limited hours of a frontline Indigenous leader to pull together a community response against illegal mining invasions, or to pull together her expense reports?”
Bambang Supriyanto (left), the director-general of the social forestry program at Indonesia’s Ministry of Environment and Forestry, handed over the decrees that recognize customary forests in Papua to representatives of Indigenous communities in Jayapura, Papua, October 2022. Image by Asrida Elisabeth/Mongabay.
Still, accountability is essential, Allen added, and reporting and other administrative tasks may be cases in which IPLC organizations could choose to work with intermediaries such as international NGOs, development banks and consulting groups.
They “each play different roles in this ecosystem and the question is: who is best positioned to deploy funding for what?” she said. Forests, People, Climate aims to help determine when working with an intermediary will benefit the project on the ground.
Sucre said he’s heartened by the changing course of the conversation because it now centers on how best to support IPLCs. The Forests, People, Climate Collaborative was announced Nov. 7 during the U.N. climate conference in Sharm el-Sheikh, Egypt. Sucre said the GATC will continue to work with the CLUA and the funders to work out a governance structure at the U.N. Biodiversity Conference beginning Dec. 7 in Montreal.
The environmental NGO Rainforest Foundation Norway (RFN) has reported on the dearth of IPLC support, noting in a 2021 report that less than 1% of climate-related aid goes directly to these groups. RFN has also worked as an intermediary with IPLCs in places like Indonesia.
Torbjørn Gjefsen, policy team leader at RFN and the lead author of the 2021 report, welcomed such steps to re-channel funding. (RFN receives funding from the Ballmer Group, which is also among the 13 funders of Forests, People, Climate.)
“There is growing philanthropic interest in funding efforts to protect nature and safeguard rights, which is both welcome and needed,” Gjefsen said in an email. “But it is important that this growth is coordinated and informed by the experience and insights of those that have provided funding for this over time, to make sure it reaches the places it is needed the most and where it will have the greatest effect.
“This is something the ‘Forest, People, Climate’ initiative can contribute to,” he added.