The Top Climate Leaders Are Now in The Global South

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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

 

Turning Indigenous Territories From ‘Sacrifice’ Zones to Thriving Forest Ecosystems

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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

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

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

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.

IPS UN Bureau Report

IPS UN Bureau, IPS UN Bureau Report,

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Nuclear Disarmament Conversations Cannot Lose Traction

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Nuclear Disarmament

Titan II ICBM - decommissioned nuclear missile - at the Titan Missile Museum, Green Valley, Sahuarita, Arizona. Credit: Stephen Cobb/Unsplash

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.

Headlines reflecting concerns around nuclear testing. Credit: IPS

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 considered voluntarily 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.

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Rajagopal PV’s Blueprint for Another World: Peace

Active Citizens, Africa, Asia-Pacific, Civil Society, Conferences, Editors’ Choice, Featured, Global, Headlines, Human Rights, Humanitarian Emergencies, Peace, Population, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations

Peace

Rajagopal P.V. at the International Civil Society Week (ICSW2025) in Bangkok. Credit: Zofeen Ebrahim/IPS

Rajagopal P.V. at the International Civil Society Week (ICSW2025) in Bangkok. Credit: Zofeen Ebrahim/IPS

BANGKOK, Nov 4 2025 (IPS) – “If nations can have defense ministries, why not peace ministries?” asks Rajagopal PV, the soft-spoken yet formidable founder of Ekta Parishad. “We are told to see issues through a gender lens—why not a peace lens? Why can’t we imagine a business model rooted in non-violence or an education system that teaches peace?”


Founded in 1989, Ekta Parishad—literally Forum for Unity—is a vast people’s movement of more than 250,000 landless poor, now recognized as one of India’s largest and most disciplined grassroots forces for justice.

To Rajagopal, these aren’t utopian dreams—they’re blueprints for a possible world.

Over the decades, Ekta Parishad has secured land rights for nearly half a million families, trained over 10,000 grassroots leaders, protected forests and water bodies, and helped shape key land reform laws and policies in India.

All this has been achieved not through anger, but through disciplined, nonviolent marches that stretch across hundreds of kilometers. Along the way, many leaders have walked beside him—among them, the current Prime Minister of Armenia.

In an age marked by deep disorder—where wealth concentrates in few hands, poverty spreads, and the planet itself trembles under human greed—the 77-year-old Gandhian remains unshaken in his belief that peace alone can redeem humanity.

“We must rescue peace from the clutches of poverty and all its evils,” he told IPS on the sidelines of the International Civil Society Week, standing on the football ground of Bangkok’s Thammasat University.

“And it can be done,” he insists—and his life is proof. In 1969, the centenary year of Mahatma Gandhi’s birth, the Government of India launched a unique exhibition on wheels, a ten-coach train carrying Gandhi’s life and message across the nation. Rajagopal was part of the team that curated and travelled with it.

“For an entire year, we journeyed from state to state. Thousands of schoolchildren would gather at railway platforms, their faces lit with curiosity, waiting to meet Gandhi through our displays,” he recalls.

Yet somewhere along those long railway tracks, Rajagopal began to feel that displaying Gandhi’s ideals wasn’t enough. “The exhibition was beautiful,” he says, “but what was the use of preaching non-violence if we couldn’t live it, breathe it, and bring it to life?”

That realization led him to one of the most daring experiments in peacebuilding India had ever seen—negotiating with the feared bandits of the Chambal valley. “It was 1970,” he recalls. “We moved cautiously, first meeting villagers on the periphery to build trust. Once we had their confidence, we sent word to the dacoits: we wanted to talk. With the government’s consent, we ventured into what we called a ‘peace zone’—often by night, walking for hours through deep ravines—to meet men the world only knew as outlaws.”

The dialogues continued for four years. Eventually, as many as 570 bandits laid down their arms before a photograph of Mahatma Gandhi—a sight India had never seen before. The government, in turn, promised they would not face the death penalty and would receive land and livestock to rebuild their lives. Rehabilitation took another four painstaking years, but it was a victory of conscience over fear.

“They didn’t just surrender their weapons—they surrendered their anger,” Rajagopal says quietly. “There was real repentance, and that takes time—but it lasts.” His commitment came at a cost. At his ashram—a spiritual retreat he had founded—he was threatened, beaten, and ordered to abandon his peace efforts. He talked them through to accepting his presence.

“Today that same region is heaven,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling with memory. “Fifty years ago, people trembled at sunset—terrified of the bandits. Today, you can travel at 2:00 pm in the night, where fear ruled once.”

The mass surrender may have looked like a triumph for the state, but Rajagopal urges people to look deeper. “It’s the invisible violence—poverty, injustice, and oppression—that breeds the visible one: dacoities, kidnappings, and killings,” he explains.

Though Rajagopal and his companions had ended one form of violence, the deeper, quieter kind—born of poverty and neglect—still festered. Until that was confronted, he knew, peace would remain incomplete.

Years of working alongside the poor had taught him one truth: non-violence needs structure. If India’s Indigenous and landless communities were to be heard, they had to be organized.

“We began training young people from dozens of villages,” he says. “They went door to door, teaching others not only about their rights—especially the right to land—but also how to claim them peacefully.”

With that foundation, a five-year plan took shape. Each village home chose one member to take part. Every day, the family set aside one rupee and a fistful of rice—a humble but powerful act of commitment.

They even created a “playbook” of possible scenarios—how to stay calm under provocation, how to respond to setbacks, and how to practice non-violence in thought and action. “In one of our marches, a truck ran over three of our people, killing them,” he recalls softly. “There was grief, but no retaliation. Instead, they sat in silence and meditated. That was our true test.”

In 2006, 500 marchers walked 350 kilometers from Gwalior to Delhi, demanding land rights. Nothing changed. But they didn’t stop.

A year later, in 2007, 25,000 people—many barefoot—set out again on the national highway. “Imagine that sight,” Rajagopal says, eyes gleaming. “Twenty-five thousand people walking for a month, powered only by hope.”

The march displayed not just India’s poverty but also its power—the quiet power of the poor united. It was among the most disciplined mobilizations the country had ever seen. “There was one leader for every hundred people,” Rajagopal explains. “We walked by day and slept on the highway by night. Those in charge of cooking went ahead each morning so that by sundown, a single meal was ready for all.”

In a later march, Rajagopal recalls, the government sent a large police force. “I was worried,” he admits. “I called the authorities to tell them this was a non-violent protest—we didn’t need protection. The officer replied, ‘They’re not there for you; they’re here to learn how disciplined movements should be.’”

Along the route, villages greeted them like family—offering bags of rice, water, and prayers. “There was never a shortage of food,” Rajagopal smiles. “When your cause is just, the world feeds you.”

By the time the march reached Delhi, the government announced a new land reform policy and housing rights and agreed to enact the Forest Rights Act.

The government dispersed the marchers with hollow promises and the reforms never happened.

So Ekta Parishad planned an even larger march—a Jan Satyagraha of 100,000 people in 2012.

“Halfway through, the government came running.”

Rajagopal’s face lights up as he recalls the event. “They agreed to our ten-point agenda and signed it in front of the people. That moment was historic—governments almost never do that; the Indian government certainly never does it!”

The agreement included land and housing rights, a national task force on land reform, the prime minister’s oversight of policy implementation, and fast-track courts to resolve land disputes.

Today, because of these long, barefoot marches, more than three million Indigenous people in India now have legal rights to land and housing. The struggle also gave birth to India’s Land Acquisition, Rehabilitation, and Resettlement Act—a landmark in people’s movements.

“The Act also safeguards fertile land,” Rajagopal explains. “Before the government can acquire any area, a social impact study must be done. And if farmland is taken, the owners receive four times its value in compensation.”

“The purpose of our marches,” Rajagopal says, “is not to fight the government, but to win it over. The government is not the enemy; injustice is. We must stand on the same side of the problem.”

For Rajagopal, peace is not a sentiment but a system—something that must be built, brick by brick, through dialogue and respect. “Non-violence,” he says, “isn’t passive. It’s active patience—listening, accepting differences, never policing thought.” The same principle, he believes, can heal families, neighborhoods, nations—and the world itself.

His next mission is to create a Youth Peace Force, ready to enter conflict zones and resolve disputes through dialogue. He has also launched the Peace Builders Forum, or Peace7, uniting seven countries—South Africa, Japan, Costa Rica, Switzerland, Canada, India, and Armenia. His dream is to expand it to Peace20, where, as he smiles, “wealth will never be a criterion for membership.”

IPS UN Bureau Report

 

Defending Democracy in a “Topsy-Turvy” World

Active Citizens, Africa, Asia-Pacific, Civil Society, Democracy, Development & Aid, Editors’ Choice, Featured, Green Economy, Headlines, Human Rights, Humanitarian Emergencies, Middle East & North Africa, Press Freedom, Sustainable Development Goals, TerraViva United Nations

Secretary General of CIVICUS, Mandeep Tiwana, at International Civil Society Week 2025. Credit: Civicus

Secretary General of CIVICUS, Mandeep Tiwana, at International Civil Society Week 2025. Credit: Civicus

BANGKOK, Nov 1 2025 (IPS) – It is a bleak global moment—with civil society actors battling assassinations, imprisonment, fabricated charges, and funding cuts to pro-democracy movements in a world gripped by inequality, climate chaos, and rising authoritarianism. Yet, the mood at Bangkok’s Thammasat University was anything but defeated.


Once the site of the 1976 massacre, where pro-democracy students were brutally crushed, the campus—a “hallowed ground” for civil society actors—echoed with renewed voices calling for defending democracy in what Secretary General of CIVICUS, Mandeep Tiwana, described as a “topsy-turvy world” with rising authoritarianism—a poignant reminder that even in places scarred by repression, the struggle for civic space endures.

“Let it resonate,” said Ichal Supriadi, Secretary General, Asian Democracy Network. “Democracy must be defended together,” adding that it was the “shared strength” that confronts authoritarianism.

Despite the hopeful spirit at Thammasat University, where the International Civil Society Week (ICSW) is underway, the conversations often turned to sobering realities. Dr. Gothom Arya of the Asian Cultural Forum on Development and the Peace and Culture Foundation reminded participants that civic freedoms are being curtailed across much of the world.

Citing alarming figures, he spoke bluntly of the global imbalance in priorities—noting how military expenditure continues to soar even as civic space shrinks. He pointedly referred to the United States’ Ministry of Defense as the “Ministry of War,” comparing its USD 968 billion military budget with China’s USD 3 billion and noting that spending on the war in Ukraine had increased tenfold in just three years—a stark illustration of global priorities. “This is where we are with respect to peace and war,” he said gloomily.

Ichal Supriadi, Secretary General, Asian Democracy Network. Credit: Civicus

Ichal Supriadi, Secretary General, Asian Democracy Network. Credit: Civicus

At another session, similar reflections set the tone for a broader critique of global power dynamics. Walden Bello, a former senator and peace activist from the Philippines, argued that the United States—especially under the Trump administration—had abandoned even the pretense of a free-market system, replacing it with what he called “overt monopolistic hegemony.” American imperialism, he said, “graduated away from camouflage attempts and is now unapologetic in demanding that the world bend to its wishes.”

Dr. Gothom Arya of the Asian Cultural Forum on Development and the Peace and Culture Foundation. Credit: Civicus

Dr. Gothom Arya of the Asian Cultural Forum on Development and the Peace and Culture Foundation. Credit: Civicus

Dr. Pervez Hoodbhoy, a Pakistani physicist and author, echoed the sentiment, expressing outrage at his own country’s leadership. He condemned Pakistan’s decision to nominate a “psychopath, habitual liar, and aggressive warmonger” for the Nobel Peace Prize, saying that the leadership had “no right to barter away minerals and rare earth materials to an American dictator” without public consent.

Hoodbhoy urged the international community to intervene and restart peace talks between Pakistan and India—two nuclear-armed neighbors perpetually teetering on the edge of renewed conflict.

But at no point during the day did the focus shift away from the ongoing humanitarian crises. Arya reminded the audience of the tragic loss of civilian lives in Gaza, the devastating fighting in Sudan that had led to widespread malnutrition, and the global inequality worsened by climate inaction. “Because some big countries refused to follow the Paris Agreement ten years ago,” he warned, “the rest of the world will suffer the consequences.”

That grim reality was brought into even sharper relief by Dr. Mustafa Barghouthi, a Palestinian physician and politician, who delivered a harrowing account of Gaza’s devastation. He said that through the use of  American-supplied weapons, Israel had killed an estimated 12 percent of Gaza’s population, destroyed every hospital and university, and left nearly 10,000 bodies buried beneath the rubble.

“Even as these crises unfolded across the world, the conference demonstrated that civil society continues to persevere, as nearly 1,000 people from more than 75 organizations overcame travel bans and visa hurdles to gather at Thammasat University, sharing strategies, solidarity, and hope through over 120 sessions.

Among them was a delegation whose presence carried the weight of an entire nation’s silenced hopes—Hamrah, believed to be the only Afghan civil society group at ICSW.

“Our participation is important at a time when much of the world has turned its gaze away from Afghanistan,” Timor Sharan, co-founder and programme director of the HAMRAH Initiative, told IPS.

“It is vital to remind the global community that Afghan civil society has not disappeared; it’s fighting and holding the line.”

Through networks like HAMRAH, he said, activists, educators, and defenders have continued secret and online schools, documented abuses, and amplified those silenced under the Taliban rule. “Our presence here is both a statement of resilience and a call for solidarity.”

“Visibility matters,” pointed out Riska Carolina, an Indonesian woman and LGBTIQ+ rights advocate working with ASEAN SOGIE Caucus (ASC). “What’s even more powerful is being visible together.”

“It was special because it brought together movements—Dalit, Indigenous, feminist, disability, and queer—that rarely share the same space, creating room for intersectional democracy to take shape,” said Carolina, whose work focuses on regional advocacy for LGBTQIA+ rights within Southeast Asia’s political and human rights frameworks, especially the ASEAN system, which she said has historically been “slow to recognize issues of sexuality and gender diversity.”

“We work to make sure that SOGIESC (Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity and Expression, and Sex Characteristics) inclusion is not just seen as a niche issue, but as a core part of democracy, governance, and human rights. That means engaging governments, civil society, and regional bodies to ensure queer people’s participation, safety, and dignity is part of how we measure democratic progress.”

She said the ICSW provided ASC with a chance to make “visible” the connection between civic space, democracy, and queer liberation and to remind people that democracy is not only about elections but also about “who is able to live freely and who remains silenced by law or stigma.”

Away from the main sessions, civil society leaders gathered for a candid huddle—part reflection, part reckoning—to examine their role in an era when their space to act was shrinking.

“The dialogue surfaced some tough but necessary questions,” he said. They asked themselves: ‘Have we grasped the full scale of the challenges we face?’ ‘Are our responses strong enough?’ ‘Are we expecting anti-rights forces to respect our rules and values?’ ‘Are we reacting instead of setting the agenda? And are we allies—or accomplices—of those risking everything for justice?’

But if there was one thing crystal clear to everyone present, it was that civil society must stand united, not fragmented, to defend democracy.

IPS UN Bureau Report

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