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Amazon Watch / Maíra Irigaray
Barragem de Belo Monte no rio Xingu: 10 anos de impactos na Amazônia e de busca por reparações
A usina hidrelétrica de Belo Monte causou um desastre ambiental e social no coração da Amazônia: um dos ecossistemas mais importantes do planeta.
Essa situação só piorou desde que a usina começou a operar em 2016. A busca por justiça e reparação para as comunidades indígenas e ribeirinhas afetadas continua até hoje.
Em 2011, a Comissão Interamericana de Direitos Humanos (CIDH) concedeu a essas comunidades medidas de proteção, que até hoje não foram totalmente implementadas pelo Estado brasileiro.
E, desde junho daquele mesmo ano, a CIDH mantém um processo contra o Estado por sua responsabilidade internacional no caso.
A CIDH pode encaminhar o caso à Corte Interamericana de Direitos Humanos, que tem o poder de emitir uma sentença condenatória contra o Estado brasileiro.
Consulta o expediente de fatos do caso
Após 10 anos de operação da usina hidrelétrica e mais de 15 anos de violações de direitos humanos documentadas, é hora da justiça ser feita para as comunidades afetadas.
Leia a carta aberta das organizações que levam o caso à CIDH
Leia nosso comunicado à imprensa
Contexto
A usina hidrelétrica de Belo Monte — a quarta maior do mundo em capacidade instalada (11.233 MW) — foi construída no rio Xingu, no estado do Pará, norte do Brasil.
Foi inaugurada em 5 de maio de 2016, com uma única turbina. Naquela época, 80% do curso do rio foi desviado e 516 km² de terra foram inundados, uma área maior que a cidade de Chicago. Desse total, 400 km² eram de mata nativa. A usina começou a operar em plena capacidade em novembro de 2019.
Belo Monte foi construída e é operada pelo consórcio Norte Energia S.A., composto principalmente por empresas estatais. Foi financiada pelo Banco Nacional de Desenvolvimento Econômico e Social (BNDES), que aportou ao consórcio 25,4 bilhões de reais (aproximadamente US$ 10,16 bilhões), o maior investimento de sua história. Portanto, o BNDES também é legalmente responsável pelos impactos socioambientais associados ao projeto hidrelétrico.
Décadas de danos ambientais e humanos
As violações dos direitos humanos e a degradação da Amazônia remontam ao início do projeto. Em março de 2011, a Norte Energia iniciou a construção da barragem sem consulta adequada e sem o consentimento prévio, livre e informado das comunidades afetadas.
A construção levou ao deslocamento forçado de mais de 40.000 pessoas, rompendo laços sociais e culturais. O plano de reassentamento em Altamira — cidade diretamente afetada pelo projeto hidrelétrico — incluía moradias na periferia da cidade, sem serviços públicos adequados, moradias dignas para as famílias reassentadas e moradias diferenciadas para aqueles pertencentes a comunidades indígenas.
A operação da barragem de Belo Monte impôs uma seca permanente e artificial na Volta Grande do rio Xingu, agravada pelas secas históricas na Amazônia em 2023 e 2024. Como resultado, a morte de milhões de ovos de peixe foi documentada por quatro anos consecutivos (de 2021 a 2024) e, nos últimos três anos, não houve migração de peixes rio acima para desovar e se reproduzir. Assim, a pesca artesanal, principal fonte de proteína para os povos indígenas e comunidades ribeirinhas, foi severamente afetada: o consumo de peixe caiu de 50% para 30% do total de proteínas consumidas, sendo substituído por alimentos processados. Em suma, houve um colapso ambiental e humanitário que resultou no colapso da pesca como modo de vida tradicional, insegurança alimentar e falta de acesso à água potável para milhares de famílias, empobrecimento e doenças.
Além disso, a construção da barragem aumentou o desmatamento e intensificou a extração ilegal de madeira e a insegurança em terras indígenas e tribais, colocando em risco a sobrevivência dessas comunidades. Outra consequência foi o agravamento da pobreza e dos conflitos sociais, bem como a sobrecarga dos sistemas de saúde, educação e segurança pública em Altamira, cidade considerada a mais violenta do país em 2017, onde houve aumento do tráfico de pessoas e da violência sexual. Também foram registrados casos de violência contra defensores de direitos humanos envolvidos no caso.
Em 2025, durante a 30ª Conferência das Nações Unidas sobre Mudanças Climáticas (COP30), realizada no Brasil, o Ministério Público Federal classificou os danos causados por Belo Monte como ecocídio.
Foto: Amazon Watch / Maíra Irigaray.
A busca por justiça e reparação
Ao longo dos anos, o Ministério Público Federal do Pará, a Defensoria Pública e organizações da sociedade civil impetraram dezenas de ações judiciais em tribunais brasileiros para contestar as diversas irregularidades do projeto, bem como seus impactos. A maioria das ações permanece sem solução, algumas há mais de 10 anos.
Essas ações não obtiveram sucesso porque o governo federal tem reiteradamente anulado decisões favoráveis às comunidades afetadas, recorrendo a um mecanismo pelo qual o presidente do Supremo Tribunal Federal pode suspender uma decisão judicial com base unicamente em argumentos genéricos como "interesse nacional" ou "ordem econômica".
Diante da falta de respostas eficazes em nível nacional, a AIDA — juntamente com uma coalizão de organizações aliadas — levou o caso à Comissão Interamericana de Direitos Humanos (CIDH) e, em 2010, solicitou medidas cautelares para proteger a vida, a integridade e a saúde das comunidades indígenas afetadas.
Em 1º de abril de 2011, a CIDH concedeu essas medidas e solicitou ao Estado brasileiro a suspensão das licenças ambientais e de quaisquer obras de construção até que as condições relativas à consulta prévia e à proteção da saúde e integridade das comunidades fossem atendidas.
E, em 16 de junho de 2011, apresentamos uma denúncia formal à CIDH — juntamente com o Movimento Xingu Vivo Para Siempre, a Coordenação das Organizações Indígenas da Amazônia Brasileira, a Diocese de Altamira, o Conselho Missionário Indígena, a Sociedade Pará de Defesa dos Direitos Humanos e a Global Justice — contra o Estado brasileiro por sua responsabilidade internacional nas violações de direitos humanos contra os povos afetados neste caso. A denúncia foi apresentada em dezembro de 2015.
Em 3 de agosto de 2011, a CIDH modificou as medidas cautelares para solicitar — em vez da suspensão de licenças e obras — a proteção dos povos que vivem em isolamento voluntário, a saúde das comunidades indígenas e a regularização e proteção das terras ancestrais.
Foto: Amazon Watch / Maíra Irigaray.
Situação atual
As medidas de proteção concedidas pela CIDH permanecem em vigor, mas o Estado brasileiro não as cumpriu integralmente, relatando apenas ações genéricas. As comunidades documentaram as contínuas violações de seus direitos. A situação que motivou o pedido dessas medidas — o risco à vida, à segurança e aos meios de subsistência das comunidades — persiste e se agravou com a usina hidrelétrica operando em plena capacidade e com as recentes secas extremas na Amazônia.
Além do ocorrido em Belo Monte, existe o risco de maiores danos sociais e ambientais decorrentes da implementação de outro megaprojeto de mineração na Volta Grande do Xingu. Lá, a empresa canadense Belo Sun pretende construir a maior mina de ouro a céu aberto do Brasil.
Os impactos sinérgicos e cumulativos da usina e da mina não foram avaliados. O Estado excluiu povos indígenas, comunidades ribeirinhas e comunidades camponesas do processo de licenciamento ambiental do projeto. Apesar disso, dos protestos indígenas e de outras irregularidades em torno do projeto, o governo do estado do Pará autorizou formalmente a mina em abril de 2026.
Belo Monte, assim como outras usinas hidrelétricas, agrava a emergência climática ao gerar emissões de gases de efeito estufa em seu reservatório. Além disso, é ineficiente diante das secas prolongadas e intensas causadas pela crise, pois perde capacidade de geração de energia.
O caso perante a Comissão Interamericana
Em outubro de 2017, a CIDH anunciou que decidiria conjuntamente sobre a admissibilidade (se o caso preenche os requisitos para admissão) e o mérito (se houve, de fato, violação de direitos humanos) da denúncia internacional contra o Estado brasileiro.
Quinze anos após a apresentação da denúncia, as comunidades afetadas e as organizações que as representam ainda aguardam essa decisão. Caso a CIDH conclua que houve violações de direitos humanos e emita recomendações que o Estado brasileiro não cumpra, poderá encaminhar o caso à Corte Interamericana de Direitos Humanos, cujas decisões são vinculativas.
Uma possível decisão da Corte Internacional de Direitos Humanos neste caso estabeleceria um precedente jurídico regional em relação aos direitos dos povos indígenas e ribeirinhos, à participação pública em megaprojetos e à responsabilidade do Estado no contexto da crise climática. Isso é particularmente relevante à luz do Parecer Consultivo nº 32 da Corte, que reafirmou as obrigações dos Estados de proteger pessoas e comunidades em todo o continente da emergência climática.
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The Xingu River is being silenced, but not its people
A river is always a path, sustenance, and memory. At the Volta Grande (or Great Bend) of the Xingu River, deep in the Brazilian Amazon, the water did more than just flow: it taught people when to plant, when to fish, and when to celebrate. There, life moved to the rhythm of the river. But that began to change in 2010, when plans were underway to build the Belo Monte hydroelectric plant, and a silent question began to grow: Who decides the fate of the water? Six years later, on May 5, 2016, when the dam was inaugurated, nearly 80% of the Xingu River’s flow had been diverted.As early as 2018, organizations and communities were warning that the flow management plan imposed on the Xingu River for the operation of the hydroelectric plant foreshadowed a future of drought.That warning has come true.Today, entire stretches of the river are dry. More than 100 kilometers of the Volta Grande have lost their natural flow. The water, which once sustained biodiversity and local ways of life, no longer flows as it once did. Without enough water, the fish have stopped reproducing. There has been no spawning for three years. The river’s silence has turned into hunger, uncertainty, and disruption. The death of the fish is not just an environmental impact: it is the breakdown of a way of life. Indigenous, riverine, and fishing communities have lost not only their primary source of food but also their autonomy and their connection to the land. Today, the legacy of Belo Monte is a growing accumulation of ecological, social, and cultural degradation. However, this story is not yet over. Time for justice for the Xingu River and the life it sustainsTen years after the Belo Monte Dam began operations, the reported impacts have been confirmed, but something unexpected has also grown stronger: resistance.The affected communities remain organized, active, and determined. They continue to speak out, demand reparations, and defend their right to live alongside the river.That strength is evident today in the protests against new projects in the area.Because for these communities, the struggle is not just against a project; it is for the survival of their way of life.Today is a moment of justice for them. The complaint against the Brazilian State for its international responsibility in the case has been before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights since 2011, pending a decision that could mark a turning point for the communities of the Xingu Basin. The complaint contains the legal and evidentiary elements necessary for the Commission to admit it, determine that there were several human rights violations, and refer the case to the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, whose ruling could set a precedent for state regulation of megaprojects in the context of the climate crisis; public participation; and the protection of indigenous peoples, traditional communities, and key ecosystems such as the Amazon.But as the process moves forward slowly, the impacts continue to worsen every day. The urgency is not legal; it is human. Every unanswered cycle is another cycle of drought, biodiversity loss, and mounting violations. In this case, making a decision is not just an institutional matter; it is a matter of life expectancy for those who depend on the river.What happened with Belo Monte has become a symbol. It is a clear example of how projects marketed as “clean energy” can have profound and lasting impacts when they disregard human rights. At a time when the world is seeking energy solutions to address the climate crisis, we cannot repeat old patterns of injustice. Learn More
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Santa Marta and the End of Fossil Fuels: From “Yes” to “How”
The First International Conference on the Transition Beyond Fossil Fuels has concluded in Santa Marta, Colombia. And all signs point to this initiative being here to stay.Many aspects deserve attention in this process launched by Colombia and the Netherlands. Are we witnessing the first step toward a new era?While the world is still processing what has happened and awaits the official report from the co-hosting countries in the coming months, we offer an early analysis. The OriginsThe Santa Marta conference was a response to the frustration caused by three decades of international climate negotiations—at the successive Conferences of the Parties (COP) to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC)—failing to directly address the primary and undisputed cause of the climate crisis: fossil fuels. And it was about time.Since 1992, the international community has negotiated emissions targets and market mechanisms without ever facing the elephant in the room. The words "oil," "coal," and "fuels" do not appear in the Paris Agreement. It wasn’t until 2021, at the Glasgow COP, that fossil fuels were acknowledged for the first time as causing climate change, but only a gradual reduction in coal was called for. In 2023, in Dubai, the greatest progress was made: the phrase "transitioning away from fossil fuels." And in 2025, in Belém, not even that could be maintained. But at least that frustration helped spark the Santa Marta conference, which was precisely the opposite: 57 countries representing a third of global GDP sat down to discuss how to phase out fossil fuels, not whether to do so. If it amounts to nothing more, this conference was at least a relief, a sign of sanity in a world that sometimes is truly hard to understand.And the discussion wasn't just about the "what," but also the "how," which includes justice. The official summary document circulated by the host countries discusses territorial plans for a just transition, labor restructuring with the participation of workers and communities, direct access to financing for indigenous peoples, and explicit prevention of "new forms of extractive dependency." Decentralized and community-based energy systems are mentioned as concrete examples of sustainable production.At AIDA, we believe this is a fundamental condition: without justice, there can be no viable transition. It is not merely an ethical or legal imperative; it is also a practical one. When the transition is carried out without involving communities, without safeguarding people and territories, and without a fair distribution of burdens and benefits, it generates resistance that can hinder the projects themselves. The evidence in Latin America speaks for itself.In times when humanity is going through such darkness, it is hard to be optimistic. Perhaps in this case, there are reasons to be so. A war that, paradoxically, shows the way forwardWith the war in the Middle East as a backdrop, the Santa Marta conference took on an unprecedented sense of urgency: the disruption to oil and gas supplies that it has caused puts us in a unique situation. Overnight, between 20 and 25% of the world’s oil and gas flow was cut off, wreaking havoc across the globe: skyrocketing living costs, blackouts, and faltering economies. A conflict in one specific part of the world is affecting nearly every economy on the planet.And that shifted the tone of the conversation. The transition is no longer framed solely as a climate or environmental necessity, but as a matter of security and sovereignty. The war demonstrated that relying on fossil fuels makes us tremendously vulnerable. It is time to recognize that the climate emergency and economic stability are on the same side—they are not at odds.Fatih Birol, director of the International Energy Agency, stated from Santa Marta that the war "has broken fossil fuel markets beyond repair," referring to the metaphor of the broken vase. This is not merely an environmentalist position; it is a global assessment. The Revitalization of Santa MartaIn addition to its content, the way the Santa Marta conference unfolded was also surprising and could be considered a breakthrough in climate diplomacy.The fossil fuel lobby was explicitly excluded. Countries that have historically blocked any progress were not invited. And the format of the high-level segment broke with traditional dynamics: instead of the computer-read statements that characterize COPs, ministers and delegates sat in small circles under Chatham House rules, without screens, alongside representatives of civil society and indigenous peoples under the same conditions. It didn’t happen at the end, when no one is listening anymore, but rather by setting the tone from the very beginning.Tzeporah Berman, chair of the initiative to establish the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty, described the experience as "watching a dam break": "All that accumulated experience, knowledge, and passion suddenly translates into concrete steps to phase out polluting fuels." Science at the WheelAmong the concrete outcomes, the launch of the Scientific Panel for Global Energy Transition (SPGET) stands out. In the early years of climate negotiations, science led the way: COPs opened with an update on the latest scientific findings, and decisions were built upon that foundation. Over time, this approach eroded. Countries with fossil fuel interests gradually diluted scientific warnings and introduced what was openly called “false solutions” at the Santa Marta conference—such as carbon capture and offsets—to justify continued extraction. The conference set out to put science back in the driver’s seat.The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) continues to produce essential reports, but it has limitations that the SPGET can address. It publishes reports every seven years, a slow process for a crisis that is accelerating. Its summaries for policymakers—which, in practice, are read by governments—are negotiated line by line with government representatives, including those from countries with fossil fuel interests, diluting the conclusions. And the IPCC is not authorized to make policy recommendations to countries. Carlos Nobre, one of the founders of the SPGET, recounted that he once sought to include information on the risks facing the Amazon in an IPCC summary, but a representative from his own country rejected it.The SPGET is completely independent. No government can veto its findings, and it will produce annual updates with concrete policy recommendations to support countries in developing roadmaps aligned with the 1.5°C goal. In terms of its structure, it is co-chaired by a Cameroonian economist (Vera Songwe), a German economist (Ottmar Edenhofer), and a Brazilian energy engineer (Gilberto Jannuzzi). If it works as promised, it could become the scientific arm that the transition needs. Continuity and Structure: A Commitment to the FutureThe Santa Marta conference was not a one-off event, but rather the start of a structured process. To begin with, a second conference has already been confirmed for 2027, co-hosted by Tuvalu and Ireland, cementing the commitment to North-South collaboration. With this in mind, three permanent working groups have been established that will continue their work until the Tuvalu conference.The first line of work will support countries in developing national transition roadmaps aligned with their climate commitments under the Paris Agreement. There are concrete examples: France presented its own roadmap to phase out fossil fuels from its energy mix by 2050—the first proposal of its kind submitted by a developed country. But the plan has been criticized by civil society. It does not address the remediation of territories damaged by decades of extraction, nor does it account for the new pressures that its electrification model could exert on the Global South, from which the vast majority of the minerals needed for batteries, grids, and renewable energy come.Colombia, for its part, presented its own plan at the academic pre-conference, with data showing that the transition would become economically viable starting in 2040.Unlike the Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs), these roadmaps address fossil fuel production. The NDCs focus on reducing emissions, but they do not commit to closing coal mines or power plants or ending tenders for fossil fuel extraction. However, NDCs also have something that roadmaps lack: legal standing, as they are part of the Paris Agreement. Thus, the promise lies in integrating roadmaps into NDCs, which would result in concrete and binding transition commitments. But, as the French case shows, if the roadmaps do not incorporate the remediation of affected territories or the supply chains that electrification demands, there is a risk of ending up with binding commitments that reinforce an unequal transition rather than correcting it.The second ongoing line of work will address financial barriers—debt, fossil fuel subsidies, and access to capital—with support from IISD, a research center specializing in subsidy policies and climate finance. And the third will seek ways to decarbonize international trade by connecting fossil fuel-producing and -consuming countries so they can work together on the transition, with support from the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD).In addition, there is the Scientific Panel (SPGET), which will provide the technical foundation for the entire process, and a permanent coordination group between the current co-hosts (Colombia and the Netherlands) and the future co-hosts (Tuvalu and Ireland) to ensure continuity. Everything that emerges from these lines of work will inform the official UN climate negotiations, including COP31, scheduled for November of this year in Turkey.Although there are no binding agreements to show for it, we already have concrete working mechanisms in place among the countries committed to moving forward, including supporting institutions, clear mandates, a second conference to review progress, and a commitment to influence official UN negotiations. It’s a good start, with a structure that sustains itself. What Remains to Be ResolvedThere is one issue that cuts across all of the above: timelines and urgency. We have only just begun discussing roadmaps to phase out fossil fuels, but their implementation should have begun 40 years ago. That delay should set the tone for everything that lies ahead.One area where the Santa Marta conference fell particularly short is financing. The issue—debt, fiscal space, subsidies, and the international financial architecture—was discussed at length, but this failed to translate into clear signals. For a process aimed at coordinating the global phase-out of fossil fuels, the absence of a financial roadmap is a serious limitation.This is nothing new, nor is it a matter of charity. The principle of common but differentiated responsibilities, enshrined in the UNFCCC itself, establishes that the countries that contributed most to the climate crisis must support those that contributed least and are suffering the most. On this basis, climate finance targets have been set, currently amounting to USD 300 billion annually by 2035, as agreed at COP29. But most of that financing comes in the form of loans, which means that countries in the Global South are taking on debt to solve a problem they did not create. The North’s climate debt to the South paradoxically becomes the South’s financial debt to the North. Thus, a just transition is not possible. And the Santa Marta conference failed to make any progress on this issue.Another structural barrier that was addressed in Santa Marta but still requires further work is the investor-state dispute settlement (ISDS) mechanism, which allows fossil fuel corporations to sue governments for adopting climate measures. At least $100 billion in compensation has been awarded to companies through international arbitration tribunals. ISDS was included in the official summary of the Santa Marta conference, but with lukewarm language. As long as governments can be sued for billions for closing a coal mine, the transition will not move forward—not for lack of will, but out of fear of lawsuits.Nor was the debate over natural gas as a "transition" fuel resolved. The official document acknowledges that "there were differing perspectives regarding the role of transition fuels and technologies"—a step forward achieved thanks to pressure from civil society, given the number of countries that openly promote gas as a solution. But gas is a fossil fuel, and methane leaks from it exacerbate global warming. Presenting it as a "transition" fuel only deepens dependence and delays the transition.Finally, an analysis from Latin America reveals a significant practical inconsistency: the gap between what countries say and what they do. The Mexican government actively participated in the conference while also establishing a committee to assess the viability of "sustainable" fracking. The Brazilian government, guardian of the Amazon, continues to auction off oil wells. And Colombia, host of the conference, announced that it seeks to expand the extractive frontier in the Caribbean Sea. It seems that different branches of the same government are acting with entirely contradictory objectives. The problem is that this undermines the credibility of the process, which is crucial for a coalition such as the one being sought.That said, perhaps it was too much to expect that the first conference of its kind—which sought and succeeded in laying the groundwork for a new process—would provide all the answers to the crisis of our times. The Santa Marta conference served to identify the problems, establish lines of action, and build trust. The next step cannot wait much longer. By the 2027 conference in Tuvalu, there should be no unresolved issues left, especially regarding financing. A plan without financing, no matter how good or well thought out it may be, cannot get off the ground. From a Coal Port to a Sinking Island The conference in Santa Marta, a major coal port in Colombia, has come to a close, and the next stop is Tuvalu, a small Pacific island nation facing an existential threat from rising sea levels. The route is symbolic: from a country that exports coal to one that is disappearing due to the global warming caused by burning that very coal. That these two nations are now working together to lay the groundwork for a change in course is precisely what we need: to acknowledge the past and look to the future with solidarity.The First International Conference on the Transition Beyond Fossil Fuels could go down in history as the cornerstone of a new era. Let’s keep building on this foundation.
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Ten years of Belo Monte: The time for justice has come
Ten years after its inauguration, the Belo Monte Hydroelectric Plant (UHE) in Pará returns to the center of public debate, this time under the scrutiny of the Inter-American Human Rights System. More than an anniversary, this milestone reinforces the urgency of an effective institutional response:justice cannot continue to be postponed.The case, currently pending before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR), brings together a substantial body of evidence regarding human rights violations associated with the Belo Monte UHE. Filed by a coalition of civil society organizations, including the Inter-American Association for the Defense of the Environment (AIDA), Global Justice, Coordenação das Organizações Indígenas da Amazônia Brasileira (COIAB), Movimento Xingu Vivo para Sempre (MXVPS), and the Conselho Indigenista Missionário (CIMI), the petition consolidates allegations of violations of the rights to life, health, prior consultation, and a healthy environment. The case is at an advanced stage of review and could soon be referred to the Inter-American Court of Human Rights.A decade on, the socio-environmental impacts remain significant and largely unmitigated. The Volta Grande do Xingu—a stretch of approximately 130 km directly affected by the artificial reduction in river flow—represents the project’s most serious liability. The alteration of the hydrological regime, compounded by extreme events associated with climate change, has compromised local ecosystems, disrupted the reproductive cycle of species, reduced navigability, and threatened the food and water security of populations that depend directly on the river.Indigenous communities, riverine populations, and artisanal fishers face the ongoing deterioration of their ways of life, including reduced fish availability and impacts on fishing livelihoods. Additional harms include inadequate resettlements, increased violence, mental health impacts, and threats to cultural practices and traditional ways of life.Unlike the debates that characterized the project’s implementation phase, today’s discussion is shaped by the climate emergency and new international regulatory standards. Advisory Opinion OC-32 of the Inter-American Court of Human Rights provides clear guidelines on states’ obligations to protect human rights in the face of the climate crisis, recognizing the right to a healthy environment as a foundational principle. In this context, the Belo Monte Hydroelectric Plant case is a significant test of how energy development, environmental protection, and the rights of local populations can—and must—be reconciled.The organizations monitoring the case highlight non-compliance with precautionary measures issued by the Commission as a key reason to advance to the Court. The legal merit of the case, combined with its international significance, positions the case as ready for adjudication."More than a decade after the start of the Belo Monte hydroelectric project, the impacts on the Xingu River continue and are worsening, exacerbated by pressure for new projects and the climate crisis. The communities remain mobilized for justice and confident in the Inter-American Commission’s efforts to bring the case before the Court—the final step to ensure full reparations and the protection of the territory and its ways of life," said Marcella Torres, legal coordinator of AIDA’s Human Rights Program.According to Melisanda Trentin, coordinator of Socio-Environmental and Climate Justice at Justiça Global, the Belo Sun mining project is moving forward in the Volta Grande do Xingu region with consultation flaws identical to those of the Belo Monte project. “What is at stake in the region is the accumulation of harm and violations of human and environmental rights. A river with reduced flow, communities facing food insecurity and altered ways of life, and now a new project that repeats the same violations denounced in the Inter-American System for over 10 years,” she points out.For the signatory organizations, the ten-year mark represents a critical window for justice. The Belo Monte case is no longer an isolated episode— it stands as a benchmark for the concrete application of environmental justice in the Amazon, amid growing climate pressure and demands for state accountability.ABOUT - Belo Monte is the fourth-largest hydroelectric power plant in the world, built on the Xingu River in the state of Pará, in the heart of the Amazon. With an installed capacity of 11,233 MW, it was inaugurated on May 5, 2016. Its operation diverts 80% of the Xingu River’s flow through a canal 500 meters wide and 75 km long. The flooded area between the canal and the reservoir covers 516 km², larger than the city of Chicago, of which 400 km² was native forest.#JutiçaNoXingu See the statement from the petitioners in the Belo Monte case before the IACHR Read what the petitioning organizations in the case have to say:Coordination of Indigenous Organizations of the Brazilian Amazon (COIAB)"There is no legal certainty without respect for the inherent rights of indigenous peoples. In the Amazon, this defense goes beyond the legal realm: it is a commitment to life, to the integrity of territories, and to the planet’s climate balance. The harm that the construction of the Belo Monte Dam has caused to indigenous populations and the environment has become a reality and is irreversible. COIAB’s Legal Advisory Office works to ensure that the Constitution, international treaties, and the self-determination of indigenous peoples are effectively respected at all levels of decision-making," states Gabriele Baré, coordinator of COIAB’s Legal Advisory Office.Movimento Xingu Vivo Para Sempre "Belo Monte uprooted people from the riverbanks and scattered the Xingu people far and wide, away from the river, their community, and the daily life they knew and loved. The riverine dwellers ceased to be who they were; the fisherwomen ceased to be who they were; they became nothing, many of them wandering the outskirts of cities. These people lost their identity and, with it, their soul. All that remained was emptiness and loneliness. The impact of the loss of their way of life cannot be compensated, but it must be acknowledged so that some form of redress can be made," says Ana Laide Barbosa, an educator with the Xingu Vivo para Sempre Movement.Observatory of Isolated Indigenous Peoples (OPI)"The construction of the Belo Monte hydroelectric dam has exacerbated threats and pressures on the indigenous peoples of the Middle Xingu region in a manner similar to what occurred during the dictatorship with the opening of the Trans-Amazonian Highway in the same region. Recently contacted peoples such as the Parakanã and the Arara have suffered from alarming rates of invasions and illegal deforestation on their lands, and the refuge of the isolated indigenous groups of Ituna Itatá has become one of the most deforested areas in Brazil. At the same time, the diversion of the Xingu River’s waters causes ecocidal damage to the indigenous peoples of Volta Grande; and harmful impact compensation policies have had disintegrating and ethnocidal effects on nearly all the peoples. “For all these reasons, the hydroelectric dam has become yet another example of the colonial relationship established by the Brazilian state with the Amazonian peoples and a debt of reparation that must be acknowledged and addressed," says Helena Palmquist, deputy coordinator of the Observatory of Isolated and Recently Contacted Indigenous Peoples (OPI).
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