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The Olympics and the Record We Mustn't Break
By Florencia Ortúzar Greene, AIDA attorney The 2016 Río Olympics have come to an end. Over the last few weeks, the world has once again borne witness to the greatest achievements of the human body, to the forging of new world records. But, amid high levels of air and water pollution, the thousands of competitors that met in Brazil affirmed that one record must not be broken: 1.5 degrees Celsius. The Earth has been warming steadily in recent years, causing the melting of permafrost, rising oceans, increasingly dangerous storms and floods, and more intense and frequent droughts. Exceeding a global temperature increase of 1.5 °C would trigger a global catastrophe with unknown consequences. The opening message The Olympics put the issue of climate change on the table once again. Athletes from around the world called on us all to do something about it. During the opening ceremony on August 5, images of clouds of pollution filled Maracaná Stadium in Río de Janeiro. Alarming projections showed cities and regions of the world being flooded. The peace symbol, altered to resemble a tree, was projected on the ground while a voice warned that our planet’s ice caps are melting quickly. Athletes from around the world joined in a campaign to ask the world not to break the record of 1.5 degrees, implying that the union of all nations is necessary to control global warming. Each Olympian received a tree seed, which will grow into the Athlete’s Forest, cementing their legacy in Río’s Deodoro Olympic Park. Bad air and water quality In a report on water quality in Río, the World Health Organization (WHO) made recommendations to athletes competing in aquatic events. The organization told them to cover cuts and scrapes with waterproof bandages; to avoid ingesting the water; to wash as soon as possible after exposure; to stay in it as briefly as possible; and to avoid contact with all water after it rains. Clearly, water in Río carries significant health risks. Air pollution in Río has also reached dangerous levels, authorities have warned. Promises to improve air quality before the big event were not fulfilled. According to government data, since 2008 the city’s air has contained airborne particles that cause respiratory illnesses at a concentration three times higher than annual WHO-recommended limits. Another key to the planet’s health is the Amazon rainforest, of which Brazil is the principle guardian. The Amazon stores huge amounts of carbon, taking up some of what we release into the atmosphere. But this natural treasure is at risk. According to the World Wildlife Fund, over the last several years the Amazon has lost at least 17 percent of its vegetation, and deforestation has released large amounts of carbon into the atmosphere. The protection of this treasure is a responsibility humanity is failing to live up to. The fight we must win This month, nearly 11 thousand competitors from all around the world united in the world’s most important athletic competition. It was a unique occasion to reflect on the urgent challenges facing humanity. AIDA helps the nations of Latin America tackle these challenges. We work to improve air quality, and mitigate short-lived climate pollutants, which remain in the air for a relatively short time, yet generate extreme changes in climate, degrade air quality, and damage crop yields. We believe the fight against climate change is the most critical of all fights. To truly achieve victory, we must ensure we don’t break the 1.5 °C record. Our ability to win it requires us all to work as one global team.
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Brazil & The Olympics: Signs of Danger, Signs of Hope
By Rodrigo da Costa Sales, AIDA attorney As the Brazilian flag was raised at the Rio Olympics to the soft sounds of acoustic guitar, the familiar words of my country’s national anthem struck me: Giant by thine own nature, Thou art beautiful, thou art strong, an intrepid colossus, And thy future mirrors that greatness. For centuries, it’s been easy, a point of pride, to celebrate the natural bounty of our landscape, from the mighty Amazon basin to the thousands of miles of pristine coastline. What’s proved most difficult is defending it. Last year Brazil was the world’s most dangerous country for environmental defenders. At least 50 of us were killed; so far this year, 23 have been assassinated. The Amazon, where I was born and spent my childhood, is the epicenter of these crimes. Plantations and ranches have been built on land where homes once stood. Indigenous and Afro-Brazilian communities, guardians of the natural world, have been evicted from lands passed down through the generations. It’s clear that economics and development have been prioritized above public health and wellbeing. Increasingly, large dams are also becoming agents of dispossession in the Amazon. On the mighty Rio Xingu, the massive Belo Monte hydro dam displaced indigenous communities that depended on and cared for the river basin. Vast amounts of rainforest were destroyed, with disastrous impacts on wildlife. Several plant and animal species are now extinct; literally tons of fish died, likely from contamination. Altamira, the city closest to the dam, is now ranked third in Brazil for violence and inequality. Belo Monte is hardly bringing equitable and just development to Brazil. There are reasons for hope, though. A couple of things that happened last week made me believe we might see some positive changes in the near future. First, the government denied the environmental license for a Tapajós River mega-dam that would have repeated the destruction of Belo Monte, devastating the lands and culture of the Muduruku people. The second is more symbolic – the opening ceremony of the Olympic games. I was particularly moved by the focus on two issues that Brazil must make a priority in coming years: deforestation and climate change. The attention to environmental crisis was powerful. It would have been even stronger, though, if indigenous people hadn’t been portrayed only as relics of Brazil’s ancient origins. In reality, our indigenous groups are crucial players in present and future efforts to achieve sustainability. To a certain extent, hope is what the Olympics are all about. They bring the world together for a common good, and, at their best, aid in the development of a peaceful society concerned with preserving human dignity across all continents. Although I have deep personal disagreements with the execution of the Olympics in Rio, I hope Brazil takes seriously the symbolic commitment demonstrated in the opening ceremony. I hope Belo Monte is the last case of its kind. I hope human rights and environmental defenders can work safely and without fear. I hope future generations grow up in a country that really is “giant by thine own nature.” Only then will our future truly be as great as the magnificent lands we call home. Please consider making a donation to AIDA today to help us make the future great for people in Brazil and throughout Latin America.
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Indigenous People of the Americas Have New Hope for Justice
By Astrid Puentes Riaño (text originally published in Animal Político) June 15 was a historic day. After 17 years of negotiations, the American Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples was approved. That’s cause for celebration. The Declaration brings advances on many fronts. It means States must commit to respecting the rights of indigenous peoples, including their rights to land, territory, and a healthy environment. It means respecting sustainable development. It recognizes that violence against indigenous women “prevents and nullifies the enjoyment of human rights and fundamental freedoms.” And it reinforces the rights of indigenous peoples to participation; to prior consultation; and to free, prior, and informed consent – particularly when they’re faced with harm to their territories. The need for effective justice As the Organization of American States was approving the Declaration, activists held a Global Day of Action to call for justice for Berta Cáceres, the Honduran indigenous rights defender assassinated on March 3. These simultaneous events demonstrate the lack of effective justice in the region. Latin America yearns for justice, particularly with regard to human rights violations caused by extractive, energy, tourism, and infrastructure projects. The events also highlight the urgent need to put declarations and international obligations into practice. Berta’s death was foreshadowed. The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights asked the Honduran government to take precautionary measures to protect her life, which the government did not do. Two days after her death, the Commission also requested protective measures for the organization she led, the Civic Council of Popular and Indigenous Organizations of Honduras (COPINH). Just days later, however, Nelson García, another of the organization’s members, was assassinated. The primary demand on the Global Day of Action was to create a commission of independent experts to investigate the murders and to help uncover the truth. The assassinations of Berta and Nelson are not exceptions. More than 100 people dedicated to protecting their lands, forests, and rivers have been murdered in Honduras since 2010. And it’s not only there. Brazil, Colombia, Nicaragua, and Peru are four of the five most violent countries in the world for environmental defenders (alongside the Philippines). 2015 has been widely recognized as “the worst year on record” for those who defend the Earth. Towards real development Berta dedicated her life to defending rivers. At the time of her death, she was working to save her people’s territory from being flooded by the Agua Zarca Dam on the Gualquarque River. Indigenous communities there have taken stands against more than 50 extractive and energy projects affecting their land, the majority of which violate national and international law. Her case has thrust into the spotlight the realities of development in Latin America. Although governments—with the help of international financial institutions, national banks, and foreign investors—promote extractive, energy, tourism, and infrastructure projects as essential to development and poverty alleviation, the reality is quite different. Systematically, these projects are built in violation of laws and without adequate planning or evaluation of impacts on the environment and human rights. Sustainable alternatives are rarely evaluated at all. In fact, many of the projects pushed through in Latin America would not be viable in developed countries, where better technologies and safeguards are the norm. Special Rapporteurs to the United Nations have been calling attention to this issue for years. The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights also recognized it in a recent report on extractive industries and their impacts on tribal and indigenous peoples. Unfortunately, the Commission is undergoing an unprecedented financial crisis because States aren’t making sufficient contributions. Some have delayed or withdrawn funding because of conflicts over the Commission’s rulings on extractive and energy projects in their territories. The clearest example can be found in Brazil, which reacted to the Commission’s call to suspend Belo Monte Dam construction by withdrawing its ambassador, initiating a thorough review of the Commission, and freezing financial contributions. Brazil has yet to re-establish a regular contribution to the body. Hope and opportunity For all these reasons, approval of the American Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples is encouraging news. It’s essential that the rights and obligations it contains be upheld immediately. Starting with Berta’s case, States must demonstrate their seriousness. They must show, through action, that they recognize the problems facing the region; that they’re reaching for truth and justice; and that they favor real development to uplift their people. Latin America has a historic opportunity. Governments can finally join the 21st Century by respecting the rule of law, practicing what they preach, and promoting development that cares for our natural resources and those who most intimately depend on them.
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Six Colombian Wetlands of Global Importance
Colombia is blessed with sweeping mountaintops, rich jungles, and rivers that curve through the heart of it all. The country has three mountain chains, fertile volcanic soils, half of the world’s páramos (high-altitude wetlands), an equatorial climate with constant high temperatures, the Amazon forest, and the waters of the Caribbean Sea and Pacific Ocean. Colombia is first in the world in diversity of birds and orchids, second in plants and amphibians, third in reptiles and palms, and fourth in mammals. To this I would add a long and diverse et cetera. Colombia’s environmental heritage includes six Wetlands of International Importance listed under the Ramsar Convention, a treaty that protects these environments. Their listing indicates their value not only for Colombia, but also for humanity. Where are they? Why are they important? What dangers do they face? 1. Ciénaga Grande de Santa Marta, Magdalena River Delta Estuary System. In the department of Magdalena, the Ciénaga Grande de Santa Marta is Colombia’s largest wetland lagoon. Here the fresh water of the Magdalena River mixes with the salty waters of the Caribbean Sea. It’s a refuge for both migratory and endemic birds. It’s in danger due to infrastructure projects including 27 kilometers of dikes, the burning and clearing of plant life, and drought. AIDA has worked with two Colombia universities to advocate for the protection of the Ciénaga before the Ramsar Secretriat. 2. Chingaza Wetlands System. The Chingaza system of lagoons and páramos hosts many species of endangered plants and animals, such as the spectacled bear and the frailejón, a succulent shrub in the sunflower family. It also serves as a refuge for migratory birds. According to the Humboldt Institute, the Chingaza páramo provides 80 percent of Bogotá’s drinking water. At AIDA, we advocate for the protection of the páramos, unique ecosystems that cover just 1.7 percent of Colombia’s continental territory but provide more than 70 percent of the nation’s drinking water. 3. Otún Lagoon Wetlands Complex. The Otún Lagoon Complex in Los Nevados National Park, in the Central Cordillera of the Colombian Andes, includes interconnected lakes, bogs, marshes, glaciers, and páramos. The area supports 52 species of birds, many of them endangered. The livestock industry, litter, forest fires, invasive species, and illegal tourism activities all threaten the area. 4. Baudó River Delta. Originating in the Serranía del Baudó, the Baudó River runs 180 kilometers through the department of Chocó and empties into the Pacific Ocean. A relatively short river, the Baudó swells from the region’s abundant rains and flows powerfully into the Pacific. The river delta’s main threats include indiscriminate mangrove removal and overfishing. 5. Estrella Fluvial del Inírida Wetlands Complex. This complex of wetlands occupies a transition zone between the Orinoco and Amazon regions, close to the sacred indigenous site of Cerro de Mavicure. According to the Ministry of Environment, the area is home to 903 species of plants, 200 species of mammals, and 40 species of amphibians. Critically endangered species, including otters, jaguars, and pink dolphins, struggle to survive there. These wetlands face threats from the illegal mining of coltan and gold, and the accompanying mercury discharge. The buffer zone also suffers from cultivation of drug crops, the livestock industry, and deforestation. 6. La Cocha Lagoon. In the indigenous language of Quechua, cocha means lagoon. In the Department of Nariño, 2,800 meters above sea level, sits Colombia’s second-largest lagoon. On its banks live fishermen, farmers, and descendants of the indigenous Quillacinga people. Tourists come to spot unique plant and animal species on the small island of La Corota. The livestock industry, intensive agriculture, deforestation, and erosion threaten the lagoon. Valuable Characteristics The Ramsar Convention protects these sites because of their fundamental role in both regulating water cycles and providing habitat for unique plants and animals, particularly aquatic birds. Ramsar also recognizes the wetlands as important sources of fresh water, which recharge aquifers. They even mitigate climate change. The Convention calls worldwide attention to these wetlands, which have “great economic, cultural, scientific and recreational value, whose loss would be irreparable.” Despite their tremendous value, Colombia’s wetlands face a growing number of threats: overexploitation, water loss, burning, deforestation, toxic contamination, large-scale mining, large-scale agriculture, roads that disrupt the natural water cycle, and climate change, among others. In recent years, they’ve been featured in some of Colombia’s most emblematic films, including El Abrazo de la Serpiente (Estrella Fluvial del Indira) and La Sirga (Cocha Lake). It is our moral and social duty—under international environmental law and the Ramsar Convention—to care for the delicate richness of the wetlands that we are so fortunate to have in our diverse little corner of South America.
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Activist Deaths Demand Accountability
Last year 185 environmental activists were murdered world-wide, two-thirds from Latin America, according to Global Witness. Of the ten most dangerous countries in the world for environmental defenders, seven are in Latin America. The brave activists we lost were killed for resisting mines, dams, and other destructive industrial projects. Now, more than ever, we must demand accountability. For the loss to the environment, the loss of indigenous cultures, the loss of human rights. That just got harder. On May 23 the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights announced a severe financial crisis leading to “suspension of [scheduled] hearings and imminent layoff of nearly half of its staff.” While the Commission has long been short on funds, this is the worst financial crisis it has ever seen. The Commission depends on funding from the Organization of American States (OAS), governments in the Americas and Europe, organizations, and foundations. Nearly all governments have decreased or failed to honor their financial commitments. The financial crisis demonstrates that our work, and the work of colleagues, communities, and movements, is having an impact. The Commission has produced important decisions in cases involving indigenous and community rights, land and environmental protection, and destructive development projects. For a few years countries have complained that the Commission is going beyond its mandate in cases involving development projects. But of course, when development projects violate human rights, they clearly fall within the purview of the Inter-American Human Rights System. The Belo Monte Dam case provides clear evidence that this manufactured crisis is a result of our effectiveness. In 2011 the Commission granted the precautionary measures our colleagues and we requested on behalf of affected indigenous communities. Brazil reacted by immediately withdrawing its ambassador to the OAS and by withholding funding for the rest of the year. A new ambassador did not return until 2015 and Brazil’s payments haven’t normalized since. In addition, after the precautionary measures were issued Brazil started an aggressive process to “reform” the Commission that ended by weakening its power. At AIDA we have analyzed how the crisis affects our cases before the Commission; how it affects future cases that need international attention; and how it affects human rights protection in the Americas. Current cases will likely be delayed. Our case on toxic poisoning in La Oroya, Peru is already seriously delayed. The Commission has promised to release a report on the merits so the case can be taken to the next level, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights. We have been told the Commission will approve the report, which has been completed, this year—despite losing 40% of its staff. This remains to be seen. Of course, we have contacted the Commission and stressed the importance of advancing the case. Informally, some judges from the Inter-American Court have indicated their eagerness to receive the case. Processing the Belo Monte case has only just started, after pending four years at the Commission. Strong political pressure from Brazil will likely delay it further. But political pressure on Brazil and the Commission can help the case move faster. As Belo Monte is linked to the biggest corruption scandal in Brazil, maybe the Commission will understand how relevant it is to advance the case. We will continue advocating for priority processing. New cases require further evaluation. We plan to bring at least one new case to the Commission soon, because unless we meet a deadline in a few weeks, the statute of limitations will prevent its consideration. All domestic remedies have been pursued; the Commission represents the last chance for justice. Despite the uncertainties of the current situation, it is important to preserve our clients’ rights in case the Commission’s funding is brought back to an adequate level. In other cases, we are looking for different ways to achieve justice. For example, we are exploring more than ever the use of national courts and national authorities. In addition, we are looking for new ways to engage financial institutions to prevent funding of projects that harm the environment and human rights. We are working with other organizations to develop response strategies. One of our attorneys, Rodrigo Sales, a Brazilian lawyer, recently represented AIDA at the General Assembly of the OAS. He advocated for human rights solutions in the region, among other issues. We consider collaboration and cooperation among the human rights and environmental communities to be essential. We need to stand together, showing governments and the public that human rights and the Commission are of vital importance. The financial crisis of the Commission—an international entity for hearing and resolving hemispheric human rights concerns—is an urgent issue that requires common understanding, thinking, strategizing, and acting. AIDA is working to make this happen.
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The love of nature, a lesson from father to daughter
By Aida Navarro, AIDA Communications and Human Resources Advisor On Father’s Day, I’d like to share the vision that my daughter Constanza has of her father. At AIDA we celebrate all the fathers who instill in their children a profound love for nature. We share your desire for all children to inherit a healthy planet on which environmental justice thrives. We also celebrate all the lawyers, like those on our team, who fight daily to defend the environment and human rights. We firmly believe that the love of our natural world begins in the cradle. I was barely a year old when my dad took me to one of the most magical places on Earth: Yellowstone National Park, the world’s first protected area. Nature and all the special creatures that live in it have enveloped my childhood ever since. When my teachers at school asked me what my father did for a living, I proudly told him that he is a defender of the planet. In his office, the walls are lined with photos of animals. My favorite is the white shark, which he took in a place called Guadalupe Island, where he’ll take me when I’m older. Every night I choose a book about sharks to read at bedtime. I already know the names of most species of sharks and I know what I must do to protect them. My dad Fernando says that being an environmental attorney is hard sometimes because he has to fight against people that do things to destroy the planet. Attorneys, he said, have to study a lot, know a lot of laws and use their brains to find ways to avoid damage to people and the environment. My mom knows a lot of lawyers who do the same work as my dad. She works with them in an organization that shares her name: AIDA. She helps them so that other people know what the organization does and can help them to defend nature. A Passing Dream I’m not sure if my memories of Yellowstone are real or if they’re all mixed up with photographs and the stories I’ve heard. I remember seeing a huge herd of buffalo out of the car window. They were so close I could smell them. I remember how patient my dad was when we was waiting to take a photo of a group of wolves that looked just like the tattoo on his arm. I can almost still smell the forest and hear the funny sounds that the squirrels make. I remember how amazing it was to discover, beneath the bark of trees, entire worlds so hidden from the gaze of us giants. Among so many other things, on that trip I learned to climb trees and throw stones, important skills for a young girl like me. I remember a mama bear with her two cubs crossing the road right in front of us. All of us in cars smiled an unforgettable smile and waited patiently for the animals to pass. My dad waited for me to grow a little bigger before he took me to meet the giants he had told me so much about: the grey whales. We drove for many hours. On the way, we stopped to walk among giant cactuses that grew up among the rocks. It was very hot and my dad told me about all the animals that lived in the desert. When we finally arrived to where we were going, we got on a small boat. We shouted with joy and excitement when a whale swam up and played with us as if we were a little toy boat in a bathtub. My dad held me tight in his arms as I stretched out to touch the whale. Her skin felt thick and airy, like those inflatable castles I love to jump in. I didn’t like it when the whale blew into my face; it smelled like fish! Living with Nature Even though he grew up in Mexico City, one of the biggest cities in the world, my parents chose to live in a much quieter place, on the Baja California peninsula. The view of the ocean delights every sunrise. We breathe clean air. In the mornings, my dad takes me to school down a long dirt road. On the way there, I like to greet a honey-colored horse that rests beneath a tree. At school, we have chickens and guinea pigs. We make compost, plant vegetables, run between trees and listen to birdsongs. It’s so much fun. When my dad travels, I miss him a lot, but I’m so happy that he’s out there saving the whales, dolphins and turtles. “Save so many dolphins,” I tell him when we talk on the phone. I imagine him as a super hero sailing in distant seas to rescue animals trapped in nets that fishermen forgot, or animals that would die from eating plastic they confused with food. I don’t want them to kill the animals. I think that when I’m older, I’ll be a veterinarian, or maybe a lawyer like my dad. That way I can defend the bears, sharks, trees and rivers; and also the children who have lost their homes to floods, or don’t have clean water to drink. Now that I’m almost five years old, I want my cake to have animals in danger of extinction on it... or maybe reptiles! I have so many unforgettable memories of Yellowstone, and even more photos, but the best memory, the one that still floods his face with happiness, is that on this trip I learned to say, “dad.”
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Mexico City: Air Pollution Points to Climate Solutions
By Laura Yaniz, AIDA social media manager (originally published in Animal Político) Smog causes continuous environmental alerts in Mexico City. But did you know a legal framework exists to combat the pollutants that cause it? Mexico City nearly entered into a state of emergency due to its poor air quality. The government almost closed gas stations, ordered half the city’s vehicles off the road, suspended classes, and closed government offices. If air pollution had spiked any higher, they’d have closed restaurants and reduced certain industrial operations by 60 percent. The cause of the crisis—which hasn’t been this bad in 14 years—is ground-level ozone. Along with black carbon, methane, and hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs), ground-level ozone is a short-lived climate pollutant (SLCP). The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change estimates that, overall, SLCPs are responsible for more than 30 percent of global warming, although recent studies calculate that it may actually be closer to 40 or 45 percent. The good news is, they have a relatively short lifespan in the atmosphere, ranging from a few days to a few decades. Reducing these emissions, in Mexico and wherever they’re found around the world, presents an immediate opportunity to achieve near-term mitigation of climate change while improving air quality and human health. Close to Extreme Mexico City’s Metropolitan Index of Air Quality measures the chemical components of air in whole numbers that are easy to understand. On May 5, ozone reached 192 points (the equivalent of 0.1929 parts per million). When the Index reaches around 200 points ozone can damage skin. The city was only 8 points away! The city has spent several months in and out of Phase 1 of the Environmental Contingency Plan, whose most famous measure is the “Doble Hoy No Circula” program, which restricts vehicles from circulating two days a week, instead of the habitual one. If Phase 2 had been declared, the extreme measure would have divided vehicles by odd and even plates and declared that half of them could not be driven. About Ground-level Ozone Ozone is a gas that exists in two different layers of the atmosphere. In the stratosphere (the highest layer), ozone absorbs ultraviolet radiation and protects us from the sun’s dangerous rays. In the troposphere (the lower atmosphere, from the ground to about 10 or 15 kilometers up), ozone acts as a greenhouse gas that contributes to global warming, harms human health, and affects the growth of agricultural crops. Tropospheric ozone is not directly emitted by any one source. Instead, it’s the result of a chemical reaction between the sun and “precursor gases,” which can occur naturally or be produced by humans. The most important precursor gases in regards to ozone are carbon monoxide (CO), nitrogen oxides (NOx) and volatile organic compounds (VOCs). The latter cover a wide range of substances, including methane, and are primarily generated at gas stations, in homes, and through the chemical industry. Ozone remains in the atmosphere only a few days or weeks, a very short time compared to other gases, such as carbon dioxide, that linger in the atmosphere for centuries, even millennia. This is precisely what makes the mitigation of ozone an interesting opportunity: if we reduce emissions, we could see the climatic and health benefits in the near and medium term. Ozone contributes to such illnesses as bronchitis, emphysema, and asthma, and can scar lung tissue permanently. According to a report from the Climate & Clean Air Coalition, an international organization dedicated to reducing short-lived climate pollutants, tropospheric ozone is responsible for roughly 150 million premature deaths each year. It also affects global food security by reducing the ability of food to absorb carbon dioxide, which reduces yield. AIDA Supports Efforts to Control Short-Lived Climate Pollutants To help governments reduce SLCP emissions, AIDA attorneys have created a report, Controlando los contaminantes climáticos de vida corta: Una oportunidad para mejorar la calidad del aire y mitigar el cambio climático. El caso de Brasil, Chile, y México (Controlling Short-lived Climate Pollutants: An Opportunity to Improve Air Quality and Mitigate Climate Change: Brazil, Chile, and Mexico). We are distributing it to key decision-makers in government agencies to help them understand the urgency of the problem and the opportunities their legal frameworks provide to facilitate emission reductions. The report reviews policies, laws, and programs on air quality and climate change as they relate to SLCPs in Brazil, Chile, and Mexico. Of the three countries studied, Mexico is currently the only one that has incorporated these contaminants into its climate change policy. The government recently went a step further by including SLCP reductions in its Intended Nationally Determined Contributions (INDCs)—the commitments made under the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change. As the AIDA report notes, it’s not enough to recognize the importance of reducing SLCP emissions. Greater efforts must be made to reduce emissions. Countries must improve pollutant-monitoring systems, provide sufficient funding for emission-reduction programs, and create systems to evaluate progress. Developing strategies to identify principle emissions sources and to reduce emissions should be a near-term priority not just for the Mexican capital, but also for all the governments of Latin America. AIDA is committed to supporting policymakers with legal expertise that can speed improvements in air quality, human health, and climate change.
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Marcelina, the voice of the San Pedro Mezquital
At 57 years old, Marcelina López has a very active life. She sews her own clothes, makes beautiful jewelry, raises chickens, sells eggs, cooks, is a midwife and organizes the women of her community; all while faithfully conserving her traditions, those of the indigenous Wixárika people. Perhaps what distinguishes Marcelina most is her great character and conviction, qualities that have rooted her deeply in a grand cause: the defense of Mexico’s San Pedro Mezquital River, threatened by Las Cruces Dam. At AIDA we’re deeply moved by the commitment of Marcelina and honored to be part of the same fight. Just like her, we want the San Pedro—the only free-flowing river left in the western Sierra Madre Mountains—to run free. We’ve been inspired to know more about this incredible woman, and to understand why she does what she does. Colors of the Sierra Madre Marcelina lives in a house made of mud, built high upon a hill, in a small community in the state of Nayarit. To go anywhere from her house, she has to walk an hour and a half through the mountains. She travels everywhere on foot. There’s no doubt Marcelina is a special woman. Everyone in the region knows her; she is unmistakable. She has the look of a wise indigenous woman, the bright colors of her clothes equal only to those of the beaded necklaces she wears each day. She herself colors the beads; they are a symbol of the importance of her culture. She often wears a head wrap, which gives her an air of certainty and connotes rich ancestral wisdom. Though her profound presence can seem serious, Marcelina is a very sweet and loving person. Over the years, Marcelina has not been immune to violence and machismo, in its many expressions. She has had to fight to have her voice recognized in agrarian assemblies, and, for a time, had to provide for her children as a single mother. Her people, the Wixárika—known in Spanish as the Huicholes—are a majority group in Nayarit. They live in the western central region of Mexico, in the Sierra Madre Mountains; they primarily populate the states of Nayarit and Jalisco, but are also represented in parts of Durange and Zacatecas. In their native tongue, belonging to the family of Uto-Aztecan languages, wixárika means “people.” For the Wixárika, ceremonies are fundamental to the social wellbeing of the group. It is through these sacred rituals that they ask for rain, give thanks for the harvest, bless its fruits, and pray for health and vitality. Their ceremonies are, in short, where they celebrate and honor life. For Marcelina and her people, the San Pedro Mezquital is the pillar of social, spiritual and economic life. Its waters support their subsistence farming and fishing activities; 14 of their sacred sites are spread along its length. What’s more, the river feeds Marismas Nacionales, one of the most important mangrove forests in all of Mexico. This important source of life and culture is threatened now by the construction of Las Cruces Dam, a project being proposed by the Federal Electricity Commission. The megaproject would be located 65 kilometers north of the city of Tepic. It would have a capacity of 240 MW, divided between three generators. The dam would effectively stand as a 188-meter high concrete curtain. Speaking for the river In her excellent Spanish, accented with clear links to her indigenous roots, Marcelina has on various occasions stood before microphones and cameras to defend the San Pedro River and the lives of those who depend upon it. “The construction of this dam will have a severe impact on our culture and our spirituality. Many of our ceremonial centers are located along this river,” she explained. “It is there that we leave our offerings of thanks; it there that we pray, not just for our own community, but for the entire world.” When asked why she decided to be part of the movement in defense of the San Pedro, Marcelina responded: “As an indigenous women, I’m hurt that they want to take away our river. What’s happening? Why didn’t they consult us indigenous people [about the project]? Where is their respect? Why are we treated this way?” Her questions remain unanswered. The construction of Las Cruces will have negative impacts on the land, its natural resources, and the way of life of the indigenous people who depend upon it. The dam will flood 4,506 hectares; the town of San Blasito, sections of communal land, at least 14 sacred sites, and one ceremonial center, will all be under water. “We are the roots of Mexico,” Marcelina concluded. “It’s not easy for us to change our sacred sites; they’re like a tree rooted deep in the soil. Down these rivers run the blood of our gods.”
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Brazil inaugurated Belo Monte: There’s nothing to celebrate!
The Brazilian government grandly inaugurated the Belo Monte Dam, which sits on the Xingu River in the midst of the Amazon. As an organization that legally represents affected indigenous and riverine communities, as well as residents of the city of Altamira, we consider there to be no reason to celebrate. The dam has been built by overlooking national and international standards that safeguard the environment and human rights. GET TO KNOW MORE about this injustice through the words of our senior attorney María José Veramendi Villa!
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Photo Essay: Life in the shadow of Belo Monte
By Anna Miller, AIDA writer Deep in the Amazon in north Brazil, the world’s third largest dam towers over a once lush jungle landscape. In its far-reaching shadow live the indigenous and riverine communities who have long called the region home. They are people who have lived and grown by the bounty of the forest and the Xingu River. For most, the natural world that surrounds them is inseparable from their definition of home. But that home is changing rapidly. As the Belo Monte Dam begins operations, and its floodgates open, their world is looking and feeling very different. Large stretches of jungle have been flooded, islands completely submerged. The fish are dying, the wildlife scared away. Families have been separated, and entire communities forced from their land. The shadow cast by Belo Monte is long, and it is dark. The lifestyle of the people of the Xingu river basin has been drastically changed without their consent. Their basic human rights have been violated time and time again. The operating company’s attempts at compensation would be laughable, if they weren’t so heartbreaking. The photos that follow depict people and communities who are living amid the volatile realities of this once peaceful patch of rainforest. They are victims of the corruption, violence and abuse that have come to envelop the largest engineering project in Brazil’s history. The Xingu River is dying. Arapujá Island, visible from Altamira, has been completely stripped of life, causing radical change in river currents. Smaller islands where fishermen lived surrounded by fruit trees have been submerged by rising water levels, as the dam’s reservoirs are filled. On one day in January, the Belo Monte dam opened its floodgates without warning; the river is said to have risen more than 20 feet in an hour. Massive amounts of fish have been dying off; locals say Norte Energía even has cleanup crews that bury them, to hide the scale of the daily devastation. Downstream from the dam, the flow of the river at the Big Bend is reducing drastically; the water is becoming muddy and deoxygenated. Communities near and far—from indigenous people to riverine fishermen—are suffering the impacts, as their lives are torn from the river they know so well. As the Xingu dies, they too lose their lives—for the river itself has long been their home, their source of food and livelihood. The construction of Belo Monte has had severe impacts on the natural world, which has long been the primary food source for jungle communities. Tribes who have lived a subsistence lifestyle are finding the river and the jungle they rely on aren’t producing enough, or are too contaminated, to feed their families. Indigenous people have been driven into the nearest city, Altamira, to meet their basic needs. Some go to buy food or go to the doctor; others have succumbed to the struggle and left their village entirely. Many who come to Altamira stay at Casa Do Indio, a house built as a shelter for the recent influx of indigenous peoples. There, they stay in overcrowded rooms, lacking proper sanitation and endangering their health. Far from their homes, stripped of their dignity, they are confronted with the harsh realities of a violent and overcrowded city. As the city closest to Belo Monte, Altamira has undergone drastic changes due to the dam’s construction. Since the project began, the city’s population has grown by nearly 75 percent; 170,000 people are currently living in a city designed for far fewer. Violence has skyrocketed and entire neighborhoods have been destroyed, displacing residents and demolishing longtime family homes. Even neighborhoods Norte Energía claimed would be unaffected by the dam are experiencing its impacts. The rapid growth has wreaked havoc on the city’s sewage system. Belo Monte’s operators have implemented no water or sewage treatment solutions whatsoever, and the entire city is suffering from a lack of basic sanitation. As a result, muddied and flooded streets are widespread. People are demanding answers from Brazil’s Environmental Authority, and from Norte Energía. But they’re left with only questions. The impacts of Belo Monte are not just forcing people from their land; they are tearing people away from each other. As homes are destroyed, and entire villages relocated, the individuals ripped from their lives are struggling to adapt. Communities are losing touch with their traditions; daughters are losing touch with their mothers. Karoline grew up in a rural community surrounded by her family and the rich natural world she remembers so fondly. When her family had to leave their land behind, they didn’t have many options, and were forced to split up. Her parents went to stay with relatives, and Karoline and her sister left for Altamira. Seeking opportunities, education, employment, they too have since parted ways. As a teenager, Karoline is on her own now, far from home. As a requirement of the project’s implementation, Norte Energía must comply with certain conditions, designed to benefit affected communities. They have been implemented in different forms for different situations, none of which could be described as full, adequate or culturally respectful. The Arara da Volta Grande is one of the communities that will be most impacted by Belo Monte. They live on the Big Bend of the Xingu, where the flow of the river has been substantially reduced. To compensate the community for changes to their way of life, Norte Energía is building them “better” houses. Though still within their territory, the structures are located away from the river. They are made of cement and have thick roofs that trap the jungle heat inside each little box. They are a far cry from the wooden, open, thatch-roofed homes traditional to the Arara’s culture and community. Instead of providing the Arara people with a functioning well to provide clean water, Norte Energía has given the community houses they don’t know how to live in; houses that, each and every day, would pull them further away from where they’ve always been. When we talk to members of the indigenous and riverine communities surrounding Belo Monte, we listen to the same answers to many of our questions. The dam is disrupting their way of life. It’s cutting them off from the natural world around them. It’s threatening their culture, their traditional knowledge and the very structure of their communities. Leoncio Arara, a traditional healer from the Arara da Volta Grande, says he now lives in fear. Fear of the dam breaking, of the water rushing down and flooding his home and his community; fear of the fish dying, of the clean water drying up; fear of the dissipation of his culture and the disappearance of his people, who have lived on and with this land for generations. In the once-lush jungle surrounding the massive Belo Monte dam, we see injustice everywhere we look. We see displacement and environmental devastation. What we don’t see is accountability. That’s why we've taken the case to the Inter-American System of Human Rights to have Brazil respond on an international level to the allegations of human rights violations stemming from the construction of the Belo Monte Dam. We’re dedicated to this struggle and we won’t rest until the people we represent, and all those whose lives have been affected by Belo Monte, see justice.
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