The Top Climate Leaders Are Now in The Global South

Biodiversity, Climate Action, Climate Change, Conferences, COP30, Development & Aid, Economy & Trade, Energy, Environment, Global, Green Economy, Headlines, Labour, Natural Resources, TerraViva United Nations

Opinion


As climate leaders gather in the Amazon, the world’s green transformation is speaking with a southern accent—powered by markets, technology, and a new economic logic.

Belém—30th Conference of the Parties (COP30). Credit: Antônio Scorza/COP30

Belém—30th Conference of the Parties (COP30). Credit: Antônio Scorza/COP30

OSLO, Norway, Nov 11 2025 (IPS) – When world leaders now gather in Belém, Brazil for the UN climate conference, expectations will be modest. Few believe the meeting will produce any breakthroughs. The United States is retreating from climate engagement. Europe is distracted. The UN is struggling to keep relevant in the 21st century.


But step outside the negotiation tents, and a different story unfolds—one of quiet revolutions, technological leaps, and a new geography of leadership. The green transformation of the world is no longer being designed in Western capitals. It is being built, at scale, in the Global South.

Ten years ago, anyone seeking inspiration on climate policy went to Brussels, Berlin or Paris. Today, you go to Beijing, Delhi or Jakarta. The center of gravity has shifted. China and India are now the twin engines of the global green economy, with Brazil, Vietnam and Indonesia closely behind.

Erik Solheim

This is not about rhetoric; it is about results. China accounts for roughly 60 percent of global capacity in solar, wind, and hydropower manufacturing. It dominates in electric vehicles, batteries, and high-speed rail. China’s 93 GW installation of solar in May 2025 is a historic high and exceeds the monthly or short‐term installation levels of any other country to date.

China has made the green transition its biggest business opportunity, turning green action into jobs, prosperity and global leadership. China is now making more money from exporting green technology than America makes from exporting fossil fuels.

India, too, is reshaping what green development looks like. I was in Andhra Pradesh last month, when I visited a wonderful six-gigawatt integrated energy park—solar, wind, and pumped storage. It delivers round-the-clock clean power. There is nothing like that in the West. In another state, Tamil Nadu, an ecotourism circuit is protecting mangroves and marine ecosystems while creating local jobs in tourism. The western state of Gujarat, long a laboratory for industrial innovation, has committed to 100 gigawatts of renewables by 2030, with the captains of Indian business – Adani and Reliance – driving large-scale solar and wind investments with the state government.

These are not pilot projects. They are national strategies. And they are succeeding because the economics have flipped.

The cost of solar power has fallen by over 90 percent in the last decade, largely thanks to the intense competition between Chinese solar companies. Battery storage is now competitive with fossil fuels. What was once an environmental aspiration has become a financial inevitability. In Indian Gujarat, solar-plus-storage projects are already cheaper than coal. Switching to clean energy is no longer a cost—it is a saving.

That is why climate action today is driven not by diplomacy, but by economics. The question is no longer if countries will go green, but who will own the technologies and industries that make it possible.

Europe, long the moral voice of the climate agenda, now risks losing the industrial race. After years of blocking imports from developing countries on grounds of “inferior” green quality, it now complains that Chinese electric vehicles are too good— too cheap and too efficient. Europe cannot have it both ways. The world cannot build a green transition behind protectionist walls. The markets must open to the best technologies, wherever they are made.

President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva of Brazil understands this new reality. That is why he chose Belém, deep in the Amazon, as the site for climate talks. The location itself is a statement: the future of climate policy lies in protecting the rainforests and empowering the people who live within them.

Forests are not just carbon sinks; they are living economies. When I was Norway’s environment minister, we partnered with Brazil and Indonesia to reward them for reducing deforestation. Later, Guyana joined our effort—a small South American nation where nearly the entire population is of Indian or African origin.

Guyana has since turned conservation into currency. Under its jurisdictional REDD+ programme, the country now sells verified carbon credits through the global aviation market known as CORSIA. In the third quarter of this year, these credits traded at USD 22.55 per tonne of CO₂ equivalent, with around one million credits sold through a procurement event led by IATA and Mercuria.

The proceeds go directly to forest communities—building schools, improving digital access, and funding small enterprises. It is proof that the carbon market can deliver real value when tied to real lives. You cannot protect nature against the will of local people. You can only protect it with them. Last year in Guyana, I watched children play soccer and cricket beneath the jungle canopy—a glimpse of life thriving in harmony with the forest, not at its expense.

That, ultimately, is what Belém should represent: not another round of procedural debates, but a vision for linking markets, nature and livelihoods.

The Global South has also sidestepped one of the West’s greatest political failures: climate denial. In India, there is no major political party—or public figure, cricket star or Bollywood artist—questioning the reality of climate change. Leaders may differ on ideology, but not on this. Across Asia, from China to Indonesia, climate action unites rather than divides. Because here, ecology and economy move together.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi of India puts it simply: by going green, we also go prosperous. President Xi Jinping of China and President Lula of Brazil share that same message—a vision that draws people in, instead of lecturing them. It is this integration of growth and sustainability that explains why the Global South is moving faster than most of the developed world.

None of this means diplomacy is irrelevant. The UN still matters. But its institutions must evolve to reflect the realities of the 21st century. The Security Council, frozen in 1945, still excludes India and Africa from permanent membership. Without reform, multilateralism risks losing its meaning.

Yet, while negotiations stall, transformation continues. From solar parks in Gujarat to high-speed rail across China, from mangrove tourism in Tamil Nadu to carbon markets in Guyana—climate leadership is happening in real economies, not in press releases.

Belém will not deliver a grand agreement. But it doesn’t need to. The world is already moving—faster than our diplomats.

The story of Belem will not be written in communiqués, but in kilowatts, credits, and communities.

The real climate leaders are no longer in Washington or Brussels.

They are in Beijing, Delhi, São Paulo, and Georgetown.

The future of climate action is already here.

It just speaks with a southern accent.

The author is the former Executive Director of the United Nations Environment Programme and Norway’s Minister for Environment and International Development.

IPS UN Bureau

 

The Top Climate Leaders Are Now in The Global South

Biodiversity, Climate Action, Climate Change, Conferences, COP30, Development & Aid, Economy & Trade, Energy, Environment, Global, Green Economy, Headlines, Labour, Natural Resources, TerraViva United Nations

Opinion


As climate leaders gather in the Amazon, the world’s green transformation is speaking with a southern accent—powered by markets, technology, and a new economic logic.

Belém—30th Conference of the Parties (COP30). Credit: Antônio Scorza/COP30

Belém—30th Conference of the Parties (COP30). Credit: Antônio Scorza/COP30

OSLO, Norway, Nov 11 2025 (IPS) – When world leaders now gather in Belém, Brazil for the UN climate conference, expectations will be modest. Few believe the meeting will produce any breakthroughs. The United States is retreating from climate engagement. Europe is distracted. The UN is struggling to keep relevant in the 21st century.


But step outside the negotiation tents, and a different story unfolds—one of quiet revolutions, technological leaps, and a new geography of leadership. The green transformation of the world is no longer being designed in Western capitals. It is being built, at scale, in the Global South.

Ten years ago, anyone seeking inspiration on climate policy went to Brussels, Berlin or Paris. Today, you go to Beijing, Delhi or Jakarta. The center of gravity has shifted. China and India are now the twin engines of the global green economy, with Brazil, Vietnam and Indonesia closely behind.

Erik Solheim

This is not about rhetoric; it is about results. China accounts for roughly 60 percent of global capacity in solar, wind, and hydropower manufacturing. It dominates in electric vehicles, batteries, and high-speed rail. China’s 93 GW installation of solar in May 2025 is a historic high and exceeds the monthly or short‐term installation levels of any other country to date.

China has made the green transition its biggest business opportunity, turning green action into jobs, prosperity and global leadership. China is now making more money from exporting green technology than America makes from exporting fossil fuels.

India, too, is reshaping what green development looks like. I was in Andhra Pradesh last month, when I visited a wonderful six-gigawatt integrated energy park—solar, wind, and pumped storage. It delivers round-the-clock clean power. There is nothing like that in the West. In another state, Tamil Nadu, an ecotourism circuit is protecting mangroves and marine ecosystems while creating local jobs in tourism. The western state of Gujarat, long a laboratory for industrial innovation, has committed to 100 gigawatts of renewables by 2030, with the captains of Indian business – Adani and Reliance – driving large-scale solar and wind investments with the state government.

These are not pilot projects. They are national strategies. And they are succeeding because the economics have flipped.

The cost of solar power has fallen by over 90 percent in the last decade, largely thanks to the intense competition between Chinese solar companies. Battery storage is now competitive with fossil fuels. What was once an environmental aspiration has become a financial inevitability. In Indian Gujarat, solar-plus-storage projects are already cheaper than coal. Switching to clean energy is no longer a cost—it is a saving.

That is why climate action today is driven not by diplomacy, but by economics. The question is no longer if countries will go green, but who will own the technologies and industries that make it possible.

Europe, long the moral voice of the climate agenda, now risks losing the industrial race. After years of blocking imports from developing countries on grounds of “inferior” green quality, it now complains that Chinese electric vehicles are too good— too cheap and too efficient. Europe cannot have it both ways. The world cannot build a green transition behind protectionist walls. The markets must open to the best technologies, wherever they are made.

President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva of Brazil understands this new reality. That is why he chose Belém, deep in the Amazon, as the site for climate talks. The location itself is a statement: the future of climate policy lies in protecting the rainforests and empowering the people who live within them.

Forests are not just carbon sinks; they are living economies. When I was Norway’s environment minister, we partnered with Brazil and Indonesia to reward them for reducing deforestation. Later, Guyana joined our effort—a small South American nation where nearly the entire population is of Indian or African origin.

Guyana has since turned conservation into currency. Under its jurisdictional REDD+ programme, the country now sells verified carbon credits through the global aviation market known as CORSIA. In the third quarter of this year, these credits traded at USD 22.55 per tonne of CO₂ equivalent, with around one million credits sold through a procurement event led by IATA and Mercuria.

The proceeds go directly to forest communities—building schools, improving digital access, and funding small enterprises. It is proof that the carbon market can deliver real value when tied to real lives. You cannot protect nature against the will of local people. You can only protect it with them. Last year in Guyana, I watched children play soccer and cricket beneath the jungle canopy—a glimpse of life thriving in harmony with the forest, not at its expense.

That, ultimately, is what Belém should represent: not another round of procedural debates, but a vision for linking markets, nature and livelihoods.

The Global South has also sidestepped one of the West’s greatest political failures: climate denial. In India, there is no major political party—or public figure, cricket star or Bollywood artist—questioning the reality of climate change. Leaders may differ on ideology, but not on this. Across Asia, from China to Indonesia, climate action unites rather than divides. Because here, ecology and economy move together.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi of India puts it simply: by going green, we also go prosperous. President Xi Jinping of China and President Lula of Brazil share that same message—a vision that draws people in, instead of lecturing them. It is this integration of growth and sustainability that explains why the Global South is moving faster than most of the developed world.

None of this means diplomacy is irrelevant. The UN still matters. But its institutions must evolve to reflect the realities of the 21st century. The Security Council, frozen in 1945, still excludes India and Africa from permanent membership. Without reform, multilateralism risks losing its meaning.

Yet, while negotiations stall, transformation continues. From solar parks in Gujarat to high-speed rail across China, from mangrove tourism in Tamil Nadu to carbon markets in Guyana—climate leadership is happening in real economies, not in press releases.

Belém will not deliver a grand agreement. But it doesn’t need to. The world is already moving—faster than our diplomats.

The story of Belem will not be written in communiqués, but in kilowatts, credits, and communities.

The real climate leaders are no longer in Washington or Brussels.

They are in Beijing, Delhi, São Paulo, and Georgetown.

The future of climate action is already here.

It just speaks with a southern accent.

The author is the former Executive Director of the United Nations Environment Programme and Norway’s Minister for Environment and International Development.

IPS UN Bureau

 

The Silent War Before COP30: How Corporations Are Weaponising the Law to Muzzle Climate Defenders

Active Citizens, Civil Society, Climate Action, Climate Change, Climate Change Justice, Conferences, COP30, Crime & Justice, Development & Aid, Economy & Trade, Energy, Environment, Freedom of Expression, Global, Headlines, Indigenous Rights, Latin America & the Caribbean, Press Freedom, TerraViva United Nations

Opinion

Family agriculture and land defenders in Colombia. Credit: Both Nomads/Forus

BELÉM, Brazil, Nov 10 2025 (IPS) – As the world prepares for the next COP30 summit, a quieter battle is raging in courtrooms. Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation (SLAPPs) are the fossil-fuel industry’s new favourite weapon, turning justice systems into instruments of intimidation.


“Speak out, and you’ll pay for it”

On a humid morning in August 2025, two small environmental groups in Panama — Centro de Incidencia Ambiental and Adopta Bosque Panamá — found out through social media that they were being sued for “slander” and “crimes against the national economy.” Their offence? Criticising a port project on the country’s Pacific coast.

A few days later, across the border in Costa Rica, two environmental content creators woke up to find their bank accounts frozen and salaries withheld. Their “crime” was posting videos about a tourism project they said was damaging Playa Panamá’s fragile coastline.

In both cases, the message was straightforward: speak out, and you’ll pay for it.

These are part of a growing global trend that is particularly ominous as climate activists, Indigenous defenders, and journalists push their demands upon the upcoming COP30 negotiations. The battle to protect the planet increasingly comes with an additional cost: defending yourself in court.

SLAPPs: Lawsuits Designed to Scare, Not Win

The acronym sounds almost trivial — SLAPP — but its impact is anything but. SLAPP stands for Strategic Lawsuits Against Public Participation, a term coined decades ago to describe legal actions intended not to win on merit but to intimidate, exhaust, and silence those who speak out on matters of public interest.

According to Transparency International, “SLAPPs are also known as frivolous lawsuits or gag lawsuits, as they silence journalists, activists, whistleblowers, NGOs and anyone who brings facts to light in the public interest.”

These are not just lawsuits; they are in fact strategy. They don’t need to win, they just need to drain your time, your money, and your hope.

The claimants are usually powerful, ranging from corporations, politicians, or investors.

In the Costa Rican case, the company linked to the Playa Panama tourism project did not even allege material harm. Yet the court imposed “precautionary embargoes,” blocking credit cards, freezing wages, even restricting property rights, punishing through the process.

In Panama, the developers of the Puerto Barú port project filed a criminal complaint against environmental NGOs who had challenged the project’s environmental impact assessment before the Supreme Court. Those challenges are still pending. Rather than waiting for the judiciary’s ruling, the company launched a separate legal attack, accusing those NGOs of harming the national economy.

Observers call it “judicial intimidation.” The case triggered several alerts across the EU SEE Early Warning Mechanism, warning of a “chilling effect on civic participation.”

‘Unfortunately, in Panama, judicial harassment of journalists and activists by politicians and businesspeople is already common practice because criminal law allows it. Reform is needed in relation to so-called crimes against honour and the grounds for seizure of assets. International organisations such as the Inter-American Press Association have warned about this,’ says Olga de Obaldía, executive director of Transparency International – Panama Chapter, a national member of the EU SEE network.

In Costa Rica, the embargoes imposed on content creators Juan Bautista Alfaro and Javier Adelfang sparked outrage. Within days, 72 organisations and more than 3,000 individuals — from academics to Indigenous leaders — signed an open letter condemning the action as “an assault on public interest advocacy.”

The backlash worked: members of the Frente Amplio Party introduced a bill to restrict the use of preventive embargoes in cases involving public interest speech.

But for those already targeted, the damage – emotional, financial and reputational – has already been done.

We do not just see SLAPPs deployed in Latin America. Examples of SLAPPs as a means of lawfare by the rich and powerful have been around for a long time across the globe.

In Thailand, Thammakaset sued several members of the NGO Fortify Rights and other activists for denouncing abusive working conditions. Still today content posted by communities or NGOs, or even comments under local government posts, are often picked up and turned into criminal defamation cases.

Despite the existence of anti-SLAPP provisions in the Criminal Procedure Code, experiences indicate that they are largely ineffective. The constant threat of facing litigation based on online content disrupts CSO work and chills free speech.

Climate Activism Under Pressure

As the world heads toward another global climate summit in Brazil – where journalist Amanda Miranda faces a SLAPP by government officials for uncovering corruption – we face a paradox: while governments make promises about protecting the environment, environmental defenders are being prosecuted for holding them accountable.

Brazil’s baseline snapshot on an enabling environment also highlights a related trend: environmental defenders are frequently framed as “anti-development,” a narrative used to delegitimise their work and undermine public support. SLAPPs reinforce this strategy. Beyond draining time and resources, these lawsuits inflict reputational harm, serving as tools in broader campaigns to discredit and silence critics.

According to research from the Business & Human Rights Resource Centre, the highest number of SLAPPs – almost half of them – took place in Latin America, followed by Asia and the Pacific (25%), Europe & Central Asia (18%), Africa (8.5%), and North America (9%). Nearly three-quarters of cases were brought in countries in the Global South and 63% of cases involved criminal charges. Furthermore, most individuals and groups facing SLAPPs raised concerns about projects in four sectors: mining, agriculture and livestock, logging and lumber, and finally palm oil.

In an International Center for Non-Profit law – ICNL – study on over 80 cases of SLAPPs across the Global South, out of them “91% were brought by private companies or company officials(…) 41% brought by mining companies and (…) 34% brought by companies associated with agriculture.”

According to data from the CASE Coalition, SLAPP cases have risen sharply in recent years: from 570 cases in 2022 to over 820 in 2023 in Europe alone. Around half of those targeted climate, land, and labor rights defenders. Fossil fuel and extractive industries remain the most frequent initiators.

It is important to remember that those numbers under-represent the extent of SLAPP use, they are based on reported legal cases and can’t include the many cases in which the mere threat of a lawsuit was enough to silence before filing a complaint

The Business & Human Rights Resource Centre has documented that companies linked to mining, tourism, and large infrastructure projects are increasingly using SLAPPs to paralyse critics ahead of international events like COP, when scrutiny intensifies.

The danger of SLAPPs lies in their quietness. They happen behind closed doors, in legal language, far from the marches and hashtags. The trials often do not even end up in lawsuits. Yet their effect is profound. Every frozen bank account, every unpaid legal fee, every public apology extracted under duress weakens the collective courage needed to hold power to account.

Across regions, SLAPPs follow the same playbook: identify outspoken defenders, sue them on vague charges like “defamation” or “economic harm”, drag the process out for years, win by exhausting, not convincing.

Of course, the specific tactics vary by legal context. In some countries, certain charges carry strategic advantages. For example, in the Philippines, authorities frequently rely on serious, non-bailable allegations — including charges like illegal possession of firearms — to keep activists detained for extended periods.

The Philippines remains the most dangerous country in Asia for land and environmental defenders with frequent attacks linked to mining, agribusiness, and water projects.

Political repression persists and civil society groups continue to face “red-tagging” and SLAPPs, further enabled by the passage of the Anti-Terrorism Act, the Anti-Money Laundering Act of 2001, and the Terrorism Financing Prevention and Suppression Act of 2012.

Authorities have also used fabricated firearms and explosives charges to target activists, journalists, and community leaders, often accompanied by asset freezes, surveillance, and prolonged detention. In these settings, SLAPPs can “weaponise” the criminal justice system itself to remove critics from public life entirely.

SLAPPs have become the invisible front of the climate struggle, a slow-motion suppression campaign that rarely makes headlines.

Tactics to Fight Back

In early 2024, the European Union adopted its first-ever Anti-SLAPP Directive, a milestone achievement after years of campaigning by journalists and civil society. It sets out minimum standards to prevent abusive lawsuits and protect public participation.

But implementation remains uncertain. The Vice-President of the European Commission, Vera Jourova, called the Directive “Daphne’s law,” in memory of the Maltese journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia, who was killed in 2017 while she was the victim of numerous legal proceedings against her, and whose tragic story helped raise awareness of the issue.

Beyond the European context, similar efforts to counter SLAPPs have emerged elsewhere, for example in Colombia with the Guerra v. Ruiz-Navarro case. This case illustrates the importance of investigating sexual violence and abuse of power, recognising it as a matter of public interest that warrants protection. This ruling sets a strong precedent against the misuse of courts to silence the press by influential figures and underscores that defending victims and informing the public are acts of defending human rights.

In Indonesia, another country where SLAPPs are being deployed, civil society groups continue to advocate for stronger legal protections, including legislation to protect from SLAPPs. A small step forward came in September 2024, when the Ministry of Environment and Forestry issued Regulation No. 10/2024, on legal protection for environmental defenders.

“While the Ministry of Environment and Forestry Regulation No. 10/2024 represents an initial step toward safeguarding environmental defenders, civil society organisations expect its effective implementation, coupled with broader anti-SLAPP legislation, to ensure comprehensive protection against retaliatory lawsuits and foster a secure environment for public participation in environmental governance,” says Intan Kusumaning Tiyas of INFID, national civil society platform in Indonesia.

Civil society groups are calling for action on immediate priorities.

These include stronger legal safeguards by enacting robust national anti-SLAPP laws that allow for early case dismissal, ensure defendants can recover legal costs, and penalise those who file abusive lawsuits.

Setting up solidarity and support through regional and global networks can quickly mobilise legal assistance, mental health support, and emergency funding for those targeted.

Finally, actions around visibility and accountability are needed to bring SLAPPs into the public eye and raise awareness. SLAPPs need to be framed not as ordinary legal conflicts, but as violations of human rights that weaken an enabling environment for civil society, democratic participation and obstruct climate justice.

At COP30, negotiators will debate carbon credits and transition funds. But the real test of climate commitment may lie in whether states protect the people defending rivers, forests, and coastlines from powerful interests.

Civil society hopes to push a bold message into COP30 discussions: defending the environment requires defending those who defend it and supporting an enabling environment for civil society.

This article was written with the support of the Forus team, particularly Lena Muhs, and members of the EU SEE network.

IPS UN Bureau

 

‘Angola produces large quantities of oil and diamonds, yet most people don’t see the benefits’

Active Citizens, Africa, Civil Society, Crime & Justice, Democracy, Development & Aid, Economy & Trade, Energy, Featured, Headlines, Human Rights, Labour, Natural Resources, TerraViva United Nations

Sep 5 2025 (IPS) –  
CIVICUS discusses recent protests in Angola with Florindo Chivucute, founder and executive director of Friends of Angola, a US-based civil society organisation established in 2014 that works to promote democracy, human rights and good governance in Angola.


The Angolan government’s 1 July decision to remove diesel subsidies, sharply pushing up public transport costs, triggered a series of protests. Angola is one of Africa’s biggest oil producers, but many have seen little benefit from its oil wealth and continue to live in poverty. People have taken to the streets in unprecedented numbers to demand an end to corruption and mismanagement, presenting the ruling party, in power for 50 years, with its biggest test. Security forces have responded to incidences of looting and vandalism with lethal violence. At least 30 people have been killed, 277 injured and over 1,500 arrested.

What triggered the protests?

Fuel subsidy cuts sparked the crisis. The protests began on 28 July, after the government’s decision to remove diesel subsidies immediately pushed up fuel prices. What started as a drivers’ strike in Luanda, the capital, quickly spread to other provinces and escalated into bigger protests.

The impact was devastating. For many families, even a small rise in fuel costs is crushing, because wages have been eroded by years of recession and currency devaluation. When transport costs rise, food prices and school fees rise too, leaving those already struggling unable to make ends meet.

But fuel was just the trigger. The unrest reflected much deeper frustrations, including high unemployment, particularly among young people, growing poverty and anger at corruption and mismanagement. People see public resources channelled into luxury spending and infrastructure deals benefiting a few powerful figures connected to the ruling People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA), while basic services and jobs are neglected. Combined with the immediate shock of higher fuel prices, these grievances fuelled widespread anger.

Why are people struggling in such a resource-rich country?

This is the irony at the heart of the crisis. Angola produces large quantities of oil, along with diamonds, yet most people don’t see the benefits. Mismanagement and entrenched corruption are central to the problem. Revenues from natural resources have too often been captured by networks close to political power and channelled abroad or invested in ways that don’t create jobs.

Angola’s dependence on fuel imports makes the situation worse. We don’t have sufficient domestic refining capacity. Instead of using oil revenues to build refineries and strengthen local industry, a system emerged in which those with political connections profited from importing refined products back into the country. This removed incentives to invest in local processing or agriculture. The result is a tiny wealthy elite and a large majority with very low wages and limited access to services.

What do these protests reveal about the government’s grip on power?

The protests have marked a turning point. The MPLA has dominated politics since independence in 1975, and large-scale protests are not common. The fact that so many people were willing to take to the streets, particularly in and around the capital, shows growing discontent with the government and ruling party.

The authorities’ reaction has been heavy-handed. Security forces have used teargas and live ammunition in some cases, and carried out numerous arrests, including of union leaders and journalists. In some areas protests were accompanied by looting and, tragically, by deadly clashes with security forces. Civil society has since called for investigations into the killings and for accountability for those responsible.

The government’s strategy risks backfiring. By responding with force and detentions, it risks creating a greater sense of mistrust and frustration, which could influence how people engage with political processes as we approach the 2027 election.

How is civil society organising and what challenges does it face?

Civil society – including church groups, trade unions and local associations — has mobilised quickly to call for accountability and transparency. New coalitions are forming; for example, groups such as the Bishops’ Conference of Angola and São Tomé and Príncipe’s Episcopal Commission for Justice and Peace, Friends of Angola, the Justice, Peace and Democracy Association and Pro Bono Angola are working with religious organisations to push for investigations into the killings and provide humanitarian support to families affected by the unrest.

But the environment is hostile. Funding for democracy and human rights work is scarce, so organisations struggle to pay staff or sustain programmes.

State surveillance creates another barrier. The state has invested heavily in surveillance infrastructure, and civil society organisations are often targeted by cyber intrusions and closely monitored. The legacy of communist authoritarian rule creates deep mistrust, which makes organising more difficult.

Language barriers limit international support. Much of the work happens in Portuguese, which limits reach to the wider international audience that often communicates in English, French or Spanish.

Additional restrictions threaten to further tighten civic space. Recent draconian measures include the 2024 National Security Bill and the Bill on the Crime of Vandalism of Public Goods and Services. In addition, the 2023 draft law on Non-Governmental Organizations, approved by presidential decree, imposed harsh regulations. These restrictive laws and policies undermine fundamental freedoms and, if fully implemented, risk worsening the already limited environment for civil society in Angola.

What would it take to address the underlying problems?

Strong political will is needed to tackle corruption and manage public finances transparently. This means opening up procurement and fiscal data, pursuing accountability for past abuses, and ensuring resource revenues are channelled into public priorities such as hospitals, local industry and schools. Investment in education, healthcare and small-scale agriculture would create jobs, strengthen livelihoods and reduce dependence on imports.

Institutional reform is equally vital. This means protecting property rights, improving the business environment so investment generates employment and strengthening an independent judiciary and electoral processes so people can seek change through democratic channels.

International partners have a role to play by supporting electoral transparency and demanding accountability from companies and governments that operate in Angola.

The 2027 election will offer a crucial test. The international community should pay close attention and support reforms that increase transparency and electoral integrity. Electoral reforms and the clear, public release of results at the local level would go a long way towards restoring confidence in democratic processes.

GET IN TOUCH
Website
Facebook
Instagram
LinkedIn
Twitter

SEE ALSO
Angola: ‘Criticising the government means risking arbitrary detention, intimidation and physical assault’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Pedro Paka 30.Jul.2025
Angola: Repressive new laws threaten civic space CIVICUS Monitor 15.Sep.2024
Angola: ‘The untrue government narrative reveals an aversion to civil society denouncing malpractice’ CIVICUS Lens | Interview with Emilio José Manuel 01.Jan.2025

  Source

Togo’s Young Generation Challenges Six Decades of Dynastic Rule

Active Citizens, Africa, Civil Society, Crime & Justice, Democracy, Energy, Featured, Headlines, Human Rights, Labour, Press Freedom, TerraViva United Nations

Opinion

Credit: Pascal.Van, licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, Sep 2 2025 (IPS) – In late June, thousands flooded the streets of Lomé, Togo’s capital, presenting the ruling dynasty with its biggest challenge in decades.

The catalyst was constitutional manoeuvring by President Faure Gnassingbé to maintain his grip on power. In March 2024, his government pushed through constitutional amendments that transformed Togo from a presidential to a parliamentary system. This created a new position, the President of the Council of Ministers – effectively Togo’s chief executive – elected by parliament rather than by popular vote, and with no term limits. Gnassingbé assumed this new role in May, making it abundantly clear the changes were only about keeping him in power indefinitely.


This constitutional manoeuvre was the latest episode in a 58-year family saga that began when Faure’s father, Gnassingbé Eyadéma, seized power in a 1967 coup. For 25 years, the elder Gnassingbé ruled over a one-party state, staging ritual elections that reached absurd heights in 1986 when he claimed re-election with close to 100 per cent of votes on an implausible 99 per cent turnout. Even after nominal multiparty democracy arrived in 1992, elections remained charades with predetermined outcomes, as opposition parties faced systematic obstacles that made fair competition impossible.

When Eyadéma died in 2005, the military simply appointed his son Faure as successor, despite the constitution mandating immediate elections. International pressure forced a hastily organised vote, but this followed the familiar script of violence, fraud and repression. The pattern repeated in 2010, 2015 and 2020, with each election offering a veneer of legitimacy for continued authoritarian rule – and eliciting successive waves of protest that were either violently repressed or pre-emptively suppressed.

Now, two decades after Faure took power, this latest constitutional gambit has triggered the most significant challenge to his rule. The constitutional changes designed to keep him in power have instead galvanised opposition, creating a focal point for decades of accumulated grievances.

The current protests differ from their predecessors by being overwhelmingly led by young people who’ve never known any other leaders than the Gnassingbés. Raised on promises of multiparty democracy, they’ve witnessed systematic electoral fraud to perpetuate a government wholly unresponsive to their needs. They connect their daily struggles with unemployment, power outages and crumbling infrastructure with the long-term denial of their democratic freedoms.

The arrest in May of a popular rapper and TikToker, Aamron – for posting a video calling for street protests to coincide with Gnassingbé’s birthday on 6 June – galvanised discontent, turning simmering frustration into organised resistance. Aamron’s detention sparked the formation of the 6 June Movement (M66), led by young artists, bloggers, diaspora-based activists and civil society figures who rely heavily on social media to coordinate protests, bypassing state-controlled channels.

The government’s response, however, has followed a familiar path of authoritarian crackdown. In late June, security forces killed at least seven people, including 15-year-old Jacques Koami Koutoglo, and they’ve also used teargas, beatings and mass arrests against protesters. The regime has detained journalists, forced deletion of protest footage and imposed internet shutdowns during protests. It has suspended international media outlets including France 24 and RFI for their protest coverage. it has even issued international arrest warrants for M66 leaders based abroad, accusing them of terrorism and subversion.

Protests have continued despite repression. The leadership of young people, less intimidated by the security apparatus and better connected through social media, has allowed for the diversification of opposition tactics, with activists shifting between street protests, legal challenges and international advocacy as circumstances dictate. The diaspora is also playing a role, with Togolese communities abroad organising solidarity protests and advocating with international organisations for sanctions against the Gnassingbé regime.

Significant obstacles however remain. Gnassingbé controls all levers of power, including security forces, the electoral commission and the Constitutional Court. For a democratic transition to result, international pressure would need to intensify, including the imposition of targeted sanctions on regime officials and their economic interests. Regional bodies, particularly the Economic Community of West African States, would need to act, including by threatening to suspend Togo until democratic reforms are implemented.

Whether these protests trigger democratic change or become yet another chapter in the history of repressed dissent will ultimately depend on the ability of pro-democracy forces to sustain pressure and whether the international community finally decides to act. Gnassingbé’s constitutional manoeuvre may prove to be his final act, not because it succeeded in keeping him in power, but because it awakened a new generation. Togo’s young people have discovered the power of collective action—and that could prove decisive.

Inés M. Pousadela is CIVICUS Senior Research Specialist, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report.

For interviews or more information, please contact research@civicus.org

  Source

‘After Decades of Making Huge Profits, Companies Shouldn’t Be Allowed to Leave Behind a Toxic Legacy’

Active Citizens, Africa, Civil Society, Climate Change, Development & Aid, Economy & Trade, Energy, Environment, Featured, Food and Agriculture, Headlines, Health, TerraViva United Nations

Jul 29 2025 (IPS) –  
CIVICUS speaks with Matthew Renshaw, a partner at a UK law firm that represents Nigerian communities taking legal action against Shell over environmental damage caused by its operations in the Niger Delta.


Matthew Renshaw

Two Nigerian communities, Bille and Ogale, are suing Shell in the UK over decades of oil spills in the Niger Delta that have devastated their land, water and way of life. The High Court has ruled that Shell and its former Nigerian subsidiary can be held liable for ongoing environmental damage, even if caused by oil theft or sabotage, and regardless of how long ago the spills occurred. The decision builds on a 2021 Supreme Court ruling that allowed UK-based parent companies to be sued for harm abroad. A full trial is set for March 2027.

How has oil pollution affected these communities?

Each of the three communities we represent in the Niger Delta have been affected by Shell’s operations in different ways.

The Bodo community endured two major oil spills from Shell pipelines in 2008 that released over half a million barrels of oil, causing the largest devastation of mangrove habitat in history. Families who once depended on fishing can no longer provide for themselves. Even swimming in the waterways is dangerous due to oil contamination. Despite bringing the case before UK courts in 2011, the community is still demanding a proper cleanup that they say has never materialised.

As for the Bille and Ogale communities, they brought their cases against Shell in the UK in 2015. The Ogale community depends primarily on farming and fishing, but since the 1980s, Shell has recorded around 100 spills in and around the area that have resulted in serious contamination of the drinking water. The United Nations conducted tests in 2011 and declared a public health emergency, but very little was done in response. Shell briefly provided safe water to residents, but that ended years ago. With no alternative sources available, many people have been forced to use visibly polluted water to drink and bathe their children.

The Bille community lives on islands in a riverine area where residents depend heavily on fishing and harvesting shellfish. A major pipeline runs directly through the community, very close to where people live. Between 2011 and 2013, multiple oil spills from Shell destroyed mangrove habitats. As with the Bodo community, fishing has become impossible for many people, forcing some to abandon their homes and communities entirely.

Why sue in the UK rather than Nigeria?

The decision to sue Shell in the UK came from our clients. While Shell operates in Nigeria through a local subsidiary, the parent company is based in the UK and has profited immensely from its Niger Delta operations, so our clients view it as equally responsible for the pollution in their communities.

They also believe they can’t get justice in Nigeria. The Nigerian legal system is notoriously slow: cases can take decades to reach judgement due to automatic rights of appeal. Many people won’t live to see justice. Bringing this type of case before Nigerian courts is also prohibitively expensive, because it requires extensive expert evidence that’s inaccessible to most affected communities.

In contrast, UK funding mechanisms make it far more feasible for our clients to pursue justice. They also trust they’ll receive a fairer hearing in London. This approach has already shown results: in the Bodo case, Shell finally brought in international experts to attempt cleanup. International litigation generates meaningful outcomes that wouldn’t happen otherwise.

Even when Shell argued that the case should be heard in Nigeria, in 2021 the UK Supreme Court ruled that because Shell PLC may share responsibility with its subsidiary, the case could proceed in London.

How is Shell defending itself?

Shell claims that most Niger Delta pollution stems from oil theft by local criminals, commonly known as ‘bunkering’. According to Shell, these criminals steal oil from pipelines to sell directly or refine into fuel. The company insists its operations are clean and criminals are to blame, arguing it’s doing its best to stop theft and therefore shouldn’t be held responsible.

This defence is fundamentally flawed. While oil theft is certainly a significant problem in Nigeria, Shell’s claims are overstated. Numerous spills have nothing to do with theft. They’re caused simply by poorly maintained infrastructure and decades-old pipelines that are not fit for purpose. This stands in stark contrast to other countries where maintenance is taken far more seriously.

Even accepting Shell’s argument, our clients contend that Shell should have taken reasonable precautions to prevent foreseeable theft. In other countries, pipelines are buried, fitted with detection systems and monitored closely to detect intrusion attempts or spills. Our clients contend that Shell has failed to implement these basic measures in the Niger Delta.

What did the recent court ruling say, and what do you hope to achieve?

The High Court sided with our position, ruling that if Shell failed to take reasonable steps to prevent foreseeable harm, it can be liable for pollution caused by bunkering. Significantly, the court also rejected Shell’s claims that it couldn’t be held liable for spills older than five years, ruling that if a spill has still not been cleaned up – even if it happened decades ago – the company can still be held accountable.

This ruling has far-reaching implications. It’s particularly significant for the Ogale case where pollution dates back to the 1980s, and it opens the door for many other Niger Delta communities affected by legacy spills dating to the 1970s or earlier. Beyond Nigeria, the ruling sends a warning to multinational companies attempting to divest from polluting operations without accepting responsibility for the damage left behind.

Our clients seek three main outcomes from the 2027 trial: proper cleanup and environmental remediation of their polluted lands, emergency provisions such as access to clean drinking water and compensation for lost livelihoods and damaged property.

A pressing concern is Shell’s recent divestment from its onshore operations in Nigeria. The company has sold its assets to a consortium and is attempting to walk away from decades of pollution. While the communities we represent have at least secured court proceedings, many others have been left behind with no cleanup and no accountability.

We’re determined to prevent Shell and other multinational companies from abandoning polluted sites without taking responsibility. Success in holding Shell accountable, including for decades-old spills, could establish crucial legal precedents. Legally, it would confirm that companies remain responsible for long-term environmental damage. Morally, it’s about basic fairness: after decades of extracting resources and making huge profits, companies shouldn’t be allowed to leave behind a toxic legacy.

While our case won’t create internationally binding precedents, it could significantly influence how similar claims are litigated in other countries, particularly in common law jurisdictions.

GET IN TOUCH
Website
Facebook
Instagram
LinkedIn
Twitter
YouTube

SEE ALSO
Business and Human Rights Treaty: a decade of struggle for corporate accountability CIVICUS Lens 08.Mar.2025
Chiquita verdict offers hope for corporate accountability CIVICUS Lens 29.Jul.2024
Peru’s oil spill raises corporate accountability questions CIVICUS Lens 01.Apr.2022

  Source