GEBZE, Türkiye, Nov 14 2025 (IPS) – Artificial intelligence (AI) is rapidly changing our world. It has helped a few companies in developed countries set record-breaking profits. Last month, Nvidia, a leading US AI company, hit a market value of USD 5 trillion.
Nvidia, together with the other six technology companies known as the Magnificent Seven, reached a market capitalisation of USD22 trillion. This value easily eclipses the combined GDP of the world’s 44 Least Developed Countries (LDCs), Small Island Developing States and Landlocked Developing Countries.
These businesses continue to make massive investments in this transformational technology. Not only are investments being made in AI for the future, but benefits are also already being reaped as it accelerates global commerce and rapidly transforms markets.
According to the World Economic Forum, AI is streamlining supply chains, optimising production, and enabling data-driven trade decisions, giving companies a big competitive edge in global markets.
Thus far, the beneficiaries have been those living in the developed world, and a few developing countries with high technological capacities, like India.
By and large, developing countries have lagged far behind this technological revolution. The world’s 44 LDCs and the Small Island Developing States are those that have been almost completely left out.
According to UNCTAD, LDCs risk being excluded from the economic benefits or the AI revolution. Many LDCs and Small Island Developing States struggle with limited access to digital tools, relying on traditional methods for trade documentation, market analysis, and logistics. This is happening as others race ahead.
This widening gap threatens to marginalize these countries in international trade and underscores the urgency of ensuring they can participate fully in the AI-driven global economy.
AI holds transformative potential for developing countries across sectors critical to economic growth and trade. The World Bank has noted that in agriculture, AI-driven tools can improve crop yields, forecast market demand, and enhance supply chain efficiency. It can also strengthen food security and export earnings. In trade and logistics, AI can optimize operations, reduce transaction costs, and help local producers access new markets.
Beyond commercial applications, AI can bolster disaster preparedness, enabling governments and businesses to allocate resources efficiently and minimize losses. The use of AI can be a game changer in responding to massive natural disasters such as the one caused by Hurricane Melissa in Jamaica a few days ago.
Despite these opportunities, the poorest and most vulnerable countries face significant hurdles in accessing and benefiting from AI. The International Telecommunications Union has noted that many countries lack reliable electricity, broadband connectivity, and computing resources, impeding the deployment of AI technologies. This is compounded by human capacity constraints and limited fiscal space to make the requisite investments.
Given this, what is the best way forward for the world’s poorest and most vulnerable countries? Firstly, policy and governance frameworks for leveraging AI for development transformation are urgently, and we can learn from others.
For example, Rwanda, a leader in the field of using technology to drive transformation has developed a National Artificial Intelligence Policy. Another example is Trinidad and Tobago, which recently established a Ministry of Public Administration and Artificial Intelligence.
Secondly, capacity building, especially for policy leaders, is key. This must be augmented by making the requisite investments in universities and centers of excellence. Given the importance of low-cost and high-impact solutions, building partnerships with institutions in the global south is absolutely vital.
Finally, financing remains key. However, given the downward trends in overseas development assistance, accessing finance, especially grant and concessional resources from other sources will be important. Consequently, international financial institutions, especially the regional development banks, have a critical role to play.
Since the countries themselves are shareholders, every effort should be made to establish special purpose windows of grants and concessional financing to help accelerate adoption of relevant, low-cost, relevant and high-impact AI technological solutions.
In an adverse financing environment, achieving the above will be difficult. This is where Tech Diplomacy comes in and must be a central element of a country’s approach to foreign policy. This will be the subject of another piece.
In summary, AI is shaping and changing the world now. For the poorest and most vulnerable countries, all is not lost. With strategic investments, forward-looking and inclusive policies, and international cooperation via Tech Diplomacy, AI can become a powerful tool for their sustainable growth and development.
Deodat Maharaj, a national of Trinidad and Tobago, is presently the Managing Director of the United Nations Technology Bank for the Least Developed Countries. He can be contacted at: deodat.maharaj@un.org
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
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
A new report, ‘Indigenous Territories and Local Communities on the Frontlines,’ calls for secure land rights, free and informed consent, direct financing to communities, protection of life, and recognition of traditional knowledge.
Brazil’s Minister of Indigenous Peoples, Sonia Guajajara, attends a meeting during the UN Climate Change Conference COP 30. Credit: Hermes Caruzo/COP30
SRINAGAR, India & BELÉM, Brazil, Nov 8 2025 (IPS) – A report by the Global Alliance of Territorial Communities (GATC) and Earth Insight paints a stark picture of how extractive industries, deforestation, and climate change are converging to endanger the world’s last intact tropical forests and the Indigenous Peoples who protect them.
The report, ‘Indigenous Territories and Local Communities on the Frontlines,’ combines geospatial analysis and community data to show that nearly one billion hectares of forests are under Indigenous stewardship, yet face growing industrial threats that could upend global climate and biodiversity goals.
Despite representing less than five percent of the world’s population, Indigenous Peoples and local communities (IPs and LCs) safeguard more than half of all remaining intact forests and 43 percent of global biodiversity hotspots.
These territories store vast amounts of carbon, regulate ecosystems, and preserve cultures and languages that have sustained humanity’s relationship with nature for millennia. But the report warns that governments and corporations are undermining this stewardship through unrestrained extraction of resources in the name of economic growth or even “green transition.”
One of the main report authors, Florencia Librizzi, who is also a Deputy Director at Earth Insight, told IPS that the perspectives and stories from each region are grounded in the lived realities of Indigenous Peoples and local communities and come directly from the organizations from each of the regions that the report focuses on in Mesoamerica, Amazonia, the Congo Basin, and Indonesia.
Across four critical regions—the Amazon, Congo Basin, Indonesia, and Mesoamerica—extractive industries overlap with millions of hectares of ancestral land. In the Amazon, oil and gas blocks cover 31 million hectares of Indigenous territories, while mining concessions sprawl across another 9.8 million.
In the Congo Basin, 38 percent of community forests are under oil and gas threat, endangering peatlands that store immense quantities of carbon. Indonesia’s Indigenous territories face 18 percent overlap with timber concessions, while in Mesoamerica, 19 million hectares—17 percent of Indigenous land—are claimed for mining, alongside rampant narcotrafficking and colonization.
These intrusions have turned Indigenous territories into sacrifice zones. From nickel extraction in Indonesia to oil drilling in Ecuador and illegal logging in the Democratic Republic of Congo, corporate incursions threaten lives, livelihoods, and ecosystems. Between 2012 and 2024, 1,692 environmental defenders were killed or disappeared across GATC countries, with 208 deaths linked to extractive industries and 131 to logging. The report calls this violence “the paradox of protection”—the act of defending nature now puts those defenders at deadly risk.
Yet the report also documents extraordinary resilience. In Guatemala’s Maya Biosphere Reserve, Indigenous forest communities have achieved near-zero deforestation—only 1.5 percent forest loss between 2014 and 2024, compared to 11 percent in adjacent areas. In Colombia, Indigenous Territorial Entities maintain over 99 percent of their forests intact.
The O’Hongana Manyawa of Indonesia continue to defend their lands against nickel mining, while the Guna people of Panama manage autonomous governance systems that integrate culture, tourism, and ecology.
In the Congo, the 2022 “Pygmy Law” has begun recognizing community rights to forest governance, a historic step toward justice.
The report’s findings were released ahead of the 30th UN Climate Conference (COP30), emphasizing the urgency of aligning international climate and biodiversity frameworks with Indigenous rights.
The 2025 Brazzaville Declaration, adopted at the First Global Congress of Indigenous Peoples and Local Communities from the Forest Basins, provides a roadmap for such alignment.
Signed by leaders from 24 countries representing 35 million people, it calls for five key commitments: secure land rights, free and informed consent, direct financing to communities, protection of life, and recognition of traditional knowledge.
These “Five Demands” are the cornerstone of what the GATC calls a shift “from extraction to regeneration.”
They demand an end to the violence and criminalization of Indigenous leaders and insist that global climate finance reach local hands.
The report notes that, despite the 2021 COP26 pledge of 1.7 billion dollars for forest protection, only 7.6 percent of that money reached Indigenous communities directly.
“Without financing that strengthens territorial governance, all global commitments will remain symbolic,” said the GATC in a joint statement.
Reacting to the announcement of the The Tropical Forest Forever Facility (TFFF) announced on the first day of the COP Leaders’ Summit and touted as a “new and innovative financing mechanism” that would see forest countries paid every single year in perpetuity for keeping forests standing, Juan Carlos Jintiach, Executive Secretary of the Global Alliance of Territorial Communities (GATC) said, “Even if the TFFF does not reach all its fundraising goals, the message it conveys is already powerful: climate and forest finance cannot happen without us Indigenous Peoples and local leadership at its core.
“This COP offers a crucial opportunity to amplify that message, especially as it takes place in the heart of the Amazon. We hope the focus remains on the communities who live there, those of us who have protected the forests for generations. What we need most from this COP is political will to guarantee our rights, to be recognized as partners rather than beneficiaries, to ensure transparency and justice in climate finance, and to channel resources directly to those defending the land, despite growing risks and violence.”
Deforestation in Acre State, Brazil. Credit: Victor Moriyama / Climate Visuals
Jintiach, who is also the report’s author, told IPS the Global Alliance has proposed establishing clear mechanisms to ensure that climate finance reaches Indigenous Peoples’ and local communities’ initiatives directly, not through layers of external actors.
“That’s why we have established our Shandia Platform, a global Indigenous-led mechanism designed to channel direct, predictable, and effective climate finance to our territories. Through the Shandia Funds Network, we ensure that funding is managed according to our priorities, governance systems, and traditional knowledge. The platform also includes a transparent system to track and monitor funding flows, with a specific indicator for direct finance to Indigenous Peoples and local communities,” he said.
The report also warns that global conservation goals such as the “30×30” biodiversity target—protecting 30 percent of Earth’s land and sea by 2030—cannot succeed without Indigenous participation. Policies under the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework and the Paris Agreement must, it says, embed Indigenous governance and knowledge at their core. Otherwise, climate strategies risk reinforcing historical injustices by excluding those who have sustained these ecosystems for centuries.
Jintiach said that based on his experience at GATC, Indigenous Peoples’ and local communities’-led conservation models are not only vital but also deeply effective.
“In our territories, it is our peoples and communities who are conserving both nature and culture, protecting the forests, waters, and biodiversity that sustain all of us,” he said.
He added, “Multiple studies confirm what we already know from experience: Indigenous and local community lands have lower rates of deforestation and higher biodiversity than those managed under state or private models. Our success is rooted in ancestral knowledge, collective governance, and a deep spiritual connection to the land, principles that ensure true, lasting conservation.”
According to Jintiach, the GATC 5 demands and the Brazzaville Declaration are critical global reference points and we are encouraged by the level of interest and engagement displayed by political leaders in the lead-up to COP 30.
Map highlighting extractive threats faced by Indigenous Peoples and Local Communities across the Amazon basin. Credit: GATC
“We are hopeful that these principles will be uplifted and championed at COP 30, the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, CBD COP 17 and on the long road ahead,” he said.
When asked about the rising violence against environmental defenders, Jintiach said that the Brazzaville Declaration calls for a global convention to protect Environmental Human Rights Defenders, including Indigenous Peoples and local community leaders.
According to him, the governments must urgently tackle the corruption and impunity fueling threats and violence while supporting collective protection and preventing rollback of rights.
“This also means upholding and strengthening the Escazú Agreement and UNDRIP, and ensuring long-term protection through Indigenous Peoples and local communities-led governance, secure land tenure, and accountability for human rights violations.”
Earth Insight’s Executive Director Tyson Miller described the collaboration as a call to action rather than another policy document. “Without urgent recognition of territorial rights, respect for consent, and protection of ecosystems, global climate and biodiversity goals cannot be achieved,” he said. “This report is both a warning and an invitation—to act with courage and stand in solidarity.”
The case studies highlight how Indigenous governance models already offer proven solutions to the climate crisis. In the Brazilian Amazon, Indigenous organizations have proposed a self-determined Nationally Determined Contribution (NDC) to reduce emissions through territorial protection. Their slogan, “Demarcation is Mitigation,” underlines how securing Indigenous land rights directly supports the Paris Agreement’s goals. Similarly, in Central Africa, communities have pioneered decolonized conservation approaches that integrate Indigenous leadership into national park management, reversing exclusionary models imposed since colonial times.
In Mesoamerica, the Muskitia region—known as “Little Amazon”—illustrates both crisis and hope. It faces deforestation from drug trafficking and illegal logging, yet community-based reforestation and forest monitoring are restoring ecosystems and livelihoods. Women and youth play leading roles in governance, showing how inclusive leadership strengthens resilience.
The report’s conclusion is unequivocal: where Indigenous rights are recognized, ecosystems thrive; where they are ignored, destruction follows. It argues that the fight for land is inseparable from the fight against climate change. Indigenous territories are not just sources of raw materials; they are “living systems of governance, culture, and biodiversity” essential to humanity’s survival.
The Brazzaville Declaration urges governments to ratify international human rights conventions, end deforestation by 2030, and integrate Indigenous territories into national biodiversity and climate plans. It also calls for a global convention to protect environmental human rights defenders, whose safety is central to planetary stability.
For GATC’s leaders, the message is deeply personal. “Our traditional knowledge is the language of Mother Earth,” said Joseph Itongwa, GATC Co-Chair from the Congo Basin. “We cannot protect the planet if our territories, our identity, and our livelihoods remain under threat.”
This feature is published with the support of Open Society Foundations.
Titan II ICBM – decommissioned nuclear missile – at the Titan Missile Museum, Green Valley, Sahuarita, Arizona. Credit: Stephen Cobb/Unsplash
UNITED NATIONS, Nov 6 2025 (IPS) – In recent days, nuclear state leaders have flouted the regulations and norms around nuclear non-proliferation and are flirting more openly with nuclear might in the name of projecting strength.
In the last week, the United States and the Russian Federation have made public shows of their nuclear messaging. On the 27th of October, President Vladimir Putin revealed a new nuclear-powered missile capable of staying airborne far longer than conventional missiles and even evading missile defense systems. Some experts have suggested that this is meant to reinforce Russia’s nuclear might, which Putin has leaned on since the start of the Ukraine invasion in February 2022.
More recently, on 29 October, President Donald Trump announced via social media that he wanted to resume nuclear testing for the first time in thirty years. In his post he wrote, “Because of other countries testing programs, I have instructed the Department of War to start testing our Nuclear Weapons on an equal basis.”
As he made this announcement just before his meeting with President Xi Jinping, some experts have considered that China’s expanding nuclear arsenal has prompted some calls in Washington D.C. to quickly modernize the U.S.’s own nuclear forces. Nuclear testing by major powers like China, Russia or the U.S. has not been conducted in decades. Yet analyses have warned that such an act would only further complicate relations between this triad.
All these developments should not come as a surprise. Even as countries have been aware of the dangers of nuclear weapons since 1945, this has not completely stopped them from expanding their forces. As of June 2025, there are over 12,400 nuclear warheads in the world in only a small percentage of countries. The U.S. and Russia account for 90 percent of those warheads, both possessing more than 5,000 nuclear warheads. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), nearly all nine of the nuclear states moved to modernize their existing nuclear arsenals and acquire new missiles in 2024.
Increasing geopolitical tensions have increased feelings of uncertainty and instability, which seems to have led countries to prioritize national security. The nuclear-armed states have made moves to expand the capabilities of their arsenals. SIPRI estimates that China now owns 600 nuclear warheads. Both the United Kingdom and France have ongoing programs to develop strategic weapons, including missiles and submarines. North Korea continues to expand its military nuclear program, accelerating the production of fissile material to make more nuclear warheads.
Concerns about nuclear testing have been reflected in headlines. Credit: IPS
The threat of nuclear weapons seemed to loom over major events this year, even as their efficacy as a deterrent was thrown into question. As India and Pakistan engaged in aerial battles and strategic strikes in May, the conflict demonstrated to the world how close two nuclear powers could come to war.
Meanwhile, in the context of the ongoing war in Ukraine and the perceived threat from Russia, European nations, including France and the U.K., are moving to prioritize investments in defense, including deterrence. Germany, Denmark and Lithuania are among some of the countries that have also expressed interest in hosting nuclear weapons for the nuclear states.
William Potter, Director of the James Martin Center for Nonproliferation Studies, expressed concern over the dangers posed by nuclear weapons due to miscalculations and misperceptions at a time when “there is a total lack of trust, respect, and empathy among the nuclear weapons possessors.”
“The more nuclear weapons, the greater the risk of their inadvertent use, but even more dangerous is the absence of a political climate in which serious arms control and disarmament measures can be pursued,” Potter told IPS.
The safeguards for nuclear arms control are also being challenged. The NEW-Start treaty, the last remaining arms control treaty between the U.S. and Russia, is set to expire in February 2026, though both countries have consideredvoluntarily maintaining the limits on deployed strategic nuclear weapons for one year. Yet in this past week, that promise has been undercut by both parties.
At the same time, there are the continuous calls for nonproliferation and disarmament. Advocates from all over have raised awareness on the impacts of radiation on communities, on public safety and on the environment. The United Nations has platformed and rallied these advocates and has raised the alarm for disarmament since its official beginning on 24 October, 1945.
Amidst this, there is the fear of a new nuclear arms race. During the high-level meeting on the elimination of nuclear weapons in September this year, the UN’s Chef de Cabinet Courtenay Rattray, who delivered remarks on behalf of Secretary-General António Guterres, said that the world was “sleepwalking” into this new arms race, now defined by new technologies and new domains for conflict such as cyberspace. Rattney warned that “the risks of escalation and miscalculation are multiplying.”
So if the nuclear states are modernizing their arsenals, how do modern technologies fit in? Artificial intelligence (AI) is the latest frontier that countries are navigating and investing significant resources in to achieve progress. Given that, national and global regulations on the safe governance of AI are still nascent as countries still work to agree on universal agreements for the frameworks for the ethical applications of AI.
As it becomes increasingly sophisticated and more accessible, member states have been investing resources into incorporating AI in the military domain. Given that it does not fit neatly into pre-existing deterrence frameworks, this has also raised concerns over AI’s possible “destabilizing effects,” according to Wilfred Wan, Director of the SIPRI Weapons of Mass Destruction Programme.
It has prompted stakeholders to engage in serious negotiations on AI governance in the military domain, including guardrails to reduce the risk of escalation, Wan told IPS. At the multilateral level, he cites the example of the Blueprint for Action that came out of the second summit on Responsible AI in the Military Domain (REAIM) in 2024. It is a non-binding agreement among 61 countries, including nuclear powers like the U.S., the U.K., France and Pakistan, that provides a framework for the responsibility that parties need to take in integrating AI, and recognizing gaps that policymakers must take into account. There is also the UN General Assembly Resolution 79/239 on “[AI] in the military domain and its implications for international peace and security.”
“This is certainly not a substitute for disarmament progress, but in the current strategic context, it can help rebuild some of the trust and confidence necessary for revitalizing those efforts,” Wan said.
Researchers from SIPRI have found there are no governance frameworks specifically for the nuclear-AI nexus compared to those for conventional military systems. “In the nuclear context, discussions have largely centered on retaining human control in nuclear decision-making. This is an essential principle but does not address other ways in which AI integration can affect the environment in which nuclear decisions are made, directly or indirectly,” Wan explained.
“Absent a framework that addresses these aspects, including through regulatory and technical measures, there remains the risk of accelerated integration of AI among nuclear-armed states in a manner that destabilizes the security environment, threatens strategic stability, and impacts the risk of nuclear use.”
When assessing the existing approaches to the governance of military AI, it shows common areas of concern, such as raising awareness through multi-stakeholder engagement and preserving the capacity for human intervention, along with applying safety and security measures to mitigate escalation risks.
At this time, nuclear disarmament and nonproliferation are critical and may even provide insight into negotiating the governance of AI in nuclear forces. The approaches to fostering multi-stakeholder dialogue that include policymakers, non-nuclear states, experts and the private sector could similarly apply to discussions around AI in nuclear forces. Though it should be noted that their limited knowledge of nuclear force structures may constrain meaningful contributions to the debate. Nevertheless, their participation must be facilitated if nuclear parties truly value human control in this factor.
Nuclear and non-nuclear states must recommit to the anti-nuclear agreements, including the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, the Treaty for the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons, and the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty. Potter stressed the importance of disarmament and nonproliferation education, particularly to empower future generations to “pursue creative ways to reduce pressing nuclear dangers.”
The UN can employ its influence in advancing disarmament efforts through dialogue and awareness efforts from the General Assembly and the Office of Disarmament Affairs (UN-ODA). The UN has also confirmed it will convene an independent scientific panel to assess the effects of nuclear warfare and an Expert Group on Nuclear-Free War Zones.
“Nuclear disarmament is more important today than ever before, but it is not simply a question of securing lower numbers of nuclear weapons,” Potter said. “At a time when the “nuclear taboo” has been eroded and discussions about the use of nuclear weapons have been normalized, it is vital that policymakers act boldly in a fashion commensurate with the threat.”
IPS UN Bureau Report
Note: This article is brought to you by IPS Noram in collaboration with INPS Japan and Soka Gakkai International in consultative status with ECOSOC.
