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Clean air and climate justice: the best gifts for our children
Today Mexico celebrates Children’s Day. The best gift we can give to millions of boy and girls is clean air and climate justice. It’s the only thing I want to give to my children that, sadly, I can’t, at least not this year. Mexico City, where we live, has had bad air quality 112 of the 120 days of 2019, thus far. Those of us who live in this city have suffered from contamination, particularly over the last month; three “environmental contingencies” (air pollution alerts) for ozone were declared for a total of seven days. In recent years, contingencies have occurred during peak ozone season—February 15 to June 15—a period in which tropospheric ozone (present in the air we breathe) exceed the maximum levels allowed by Official Mexican Law. This gas, present throughout the year, rises when the burning of fossil fuels by vehicles and industries is compounded by changing weather conditions: less rain and winds, and more solar radiation. This prevents the air pollution that we produce from dispersing into nearby areas. Increased ozone causes serious damages to the environment and public health, particularly to children. According to the Pan American Health Organization, ozone in the air can affect lung function, making breathing difficult. Thus, the group most vulnerable to contamination also includes people with respiratory diseases, older adults and athletes. Authorities recommend that the people, particularly vulnerable groups, abstain from outdoor activities during the contingencies, particularly between 1:00 and 7:00 p.m. Other measures include increasing vehicle restrictions and reducing the consumption of liquefied petroleum gas. Despite its harsh realities, ozone season is not a new or surprising phenomenon, nor is it normal. It shouldn’t be normal for parents to resign ourselves to its presence, to birthday parties indoors and not letting our children go to the park with their friends. I understand the impossibility of controlling the rain, sun and wind; but ozone is another story. There are clear measures that could and should have been implemented years ago to prevent the ozone season from being unavoidable in Mexico City. Already fully identified, they include: improving the quality of gasoline, vehicular technology and fixed sources; ensuring safe and adequate public transportation and bicycle infrastructure; and effectively controlling fleets of private and public transport. Until now, these actions have been incomplete, inefficient and unable to solve the underlying problem. But the improvement of air quality during gasoline shortages has demonstrated that such solutions are possible. What’s more, actions aimed at reducing air pollution could have a double benefit. Tropospheric ozone is a greenhouse gas that aggravates climate change. It is a short-lived climate pollutant that stays in the atmosphere for only a few weeks, meaning that actions to control it have an almost immediate effect on public health, ecosystems and the climate. Therefore, in addition to improving the health of millions of people living in cities, Mexico has the opportunity to fulfill its international obligations on climate change. Diminishing ozone season requires the urgent and structural change of public policies, laws and their application. New standards must include a human rights perspective that prioritizes public interest and the health of children, and others, above vehicular mobility. While the development and implementation of these measures may not be easy, it’s essential we take the first steps toward the results we want to achieve. Government efforts require the of our entire society. Companies must contribute to the implementation of solutions, acting with due diligence. Academics, civil society organizations, trade unions and other sectors must contribute with our knowledge and participation to ensure that the plans and programs are ambitious and effective, and that they promote a just transition. Every resident of the city has a duty to contribute. A few weeks ago, Professor David Boyd, the United Nations Special Rapporteur for Human Rights and the Environment, published a report reiterating the obligation of States to guarantee the right to clean air, and the duty of companies to contribute. The report has recommendations related to tropospheric ozone that could be very useful for Mexican authorities. The enjoyment of clean air is a right that has yet to be met. Today almost two million children (from 0 to 14 years old) live in Mexico City, including mine. They and a large part of the more than 35 million children across the country could enjoy clean air; most live in cities and towns with air quality problems. According to organized trade, the celebration of Children's Day in Mexico involves an expenditure of 17 billion pesos ($900 million dollars) in gifts, an amount that could be used for authorities, companies and individuals to implement actions to ensure that the children of the country have something much more valuable: the ability to breathe air that does not endanger their health. This would be aligned with the goal of those who instituted the celebration of Children's Day in Mexico in 1924, and with the intention of the United Nations to establish one day a year to honor the importance of children's rights. Air pollution is, unfortunately, a regional and a global problem. Peru and Colombia also celebrate their children this month. Since their cities are among the most polluted in Latin America, what is reflected here can also be applied to those countries, and the continent as a whole. My gift for my children this year will be to continue working for better air quality in Mexico City, and to collaboratively build a future—hopefully a not-so-distant one—in which climate justice is a reality.
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Listening to indigenous peoples to save the planet
More than 400 indigenous groups live throughout Latin America, many at home in the region’s protected areas, according to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization. Their ancestral knowledge of and connection to the natural world has been recognized as a way to guarantee a healthy environment and cope with climate change. Yet society seldom listens to them to learn how to best protect our natural resources. Pu’amé is a Cora expression that means “you first.” It’s used to give way to someone, but also as an expression of respect when someone is talking; it’s a way of saying, “Continue, I’m listening.” Julián López, a Náyeri indigenous leader who speaks Cora, explains this to me in a meeting with of rural communities in Nayarit, México. I’ve come to listen. During the meeting, pu’amé becomes a way of helping us pay attention and understand. To listen to representatives of indigenous communities is to confront a different worldview, particularly for those of us who exist in the urban, western world. While our way of life is focused on consumption and dependent on exploitation, indigenous communities see the Earth as a source of bounty that requires care and gratitude; it provides them with food and health. These conflicting visions have resulted in the incessant violation of indigenous rights, putting at risk not only their cultural integrity, but also their very lives. To achieve real dialogue with indigenous peoples, you must understand them, Julián tells me, while teaching me a few words in Cora. Opposing visions of development Representatives of rural Mexicanero and Cora communities from the upper and lower regions of the San Pedro Mezquital river basin have come to this meeting to discuss the Las Cruces hydroelectric project. Their concerns are many: if the dam, or any other sacred site, is constructed, what will be the fate of their children and their sacred sites? What will happen to the life of the river, the quality of the fish, and the natural balance? Odilión de Jesús López, also Náyeri, expresses his concern that authorities “don’t value that caring for nature is for the good of all.” He questions the pushback he has received for defending the river and his community’s sacred sites. “How do we use sacred sites? We bring offerings, and give thanks for the good in life.” Julián raises his hand and questions the conflicting ways of seeing development. “Development at what cost? We can’t compete with the way they see development, because what they see is money. We need to ask, what do we want in our villages?” Julián reminds us all that real wealth can be found in clean air, in a river full of fish. But he also speaks of something else: poverty. While it’s true that indigenous people want to protect their land and culture, Julián its that inaction is not an option. There are families that can’t even fulfill their children’s basic needs: health, education and a balanced diet. But he also knows that won’t be achieved by destroying the world around them. “What if we were trained to use forests sustainably?” he suggests. The representatives of the lower basin, almost all Mexicaneros, agree with him. They want to learn how to use the resources available downstream to ensure steady work. Julián mentions something else that concerns us all: instability. He himself has been the victim of threats and harassment since he began opposing the dam. During a visit to Mexico, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights defenders pointed out that indigenous activists and environmentalists are the most criminalized defenders. Their work is often related to large-scale mining, energy and infrastructure projects. Julián understands the situation of defenders throughout the region. He says that he doesn’t feel alone in the fight to protect the rivers, and he understands that risks are everywhere. “If they kill a defender in Colombia,” he says, “it harms us too.” Women and Mother Earth If the situation is complicated for indigenous men who seek to make their voices heard, it’s even more so for women who speak out in defense of their territory. Marcelina López, a Náyeri leader, speaks softly, glances down at her hands, and shares how difficult it’s been to fight for her community. Then, with a clear and strong voice, she explains, “The authorities treat me badly because I am indigenous and a woman. Of course, we are poor and indigenous; but we are rich because of Mother Earth.” Marcelina speaks of the little they have been consulted for development projects, of the purchase of consent through municipal services, and of the constant discourse that indigenous people don’t know how to see “beyond,” to see progress. “What they don’t understand is that we choose not to exploit some things because we are afraid of contaminating, and the river always comes first,” she explains. Gila de la Cruz, also Náyeri, timidly agrees with Marcelina. She tells us that, as a woman, she’s only been consulted on issues related to children. She says she has an opinion about the river, the services in her community, and the production of food; she mentions a drainage project that she and a large portion of her community disapprove of. She asks us not to misunderstand her, but she believes things shouldn’t happen just because they’ve always been done that way. She’s worried that they haven’t explained everything. “What happens after they put the tubes in? Where does the water go, to the river? Why can’t we reuse the water?” Gila’s complaint makes sense: the river could be at risk, the authorities don’t explain what they're doing, and then they scold her for questioning them. “There are other options, I've seen them,” she says. “There are ways to be more sustainable and not contaminate the water. " Angry now, she says that her opinions have not been heard because she is a woman. Why we must listen to indigenous voices All the representatives agree on one thing: they do not want to be seen as a closed opposition, without the desire to have a better life. They’re merely asking for dialogue. Among their activities as peasants, artisans and fishermen, they’ve made time to organize themselves, to learn about their rights, to master a language that is not their own, and take their concerns to the relevant institutions. They all agree that there are sustainable ways to better their quality of life without affecting the environment. Julián hopes that, ultimately, indigenous groups and authorities can reach a mutual understanding. “Can we all work together—organizations, governments and indigenous peoples? I think so,” he says. Julián asks for training; he wants to learn about infrastructure, and about a socially responsible economy. Gila and Marcelina have dedicated themselves to seeking more sustainable options to produce their food, to build something, to be healthy. "We just need to be taught," Gila says. Humanity is going through a period in which it's become necessary to question all our schemes: our ways of consumption, of using resources, of seeking comfort. Indigenous peoples have lived for centuries in a much more sustainable way than societies constructed under the ethos of the industrial revolution. They offer us, in many ways, examples and opportunities to learn again, to change and to improve. "One day there will be a public space where there is no fear, where I can say anything," Gila says. She speaks about progress made in recent years, noting that they’ve been slowly gaining space. "They should start listening to women,” she says. “They think we should be at home, but we’re here, organizing." Marcelina adds, with satisfaction, "This is how you feel when you’re fighting for your life.”
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How Brazil is threatening indigenous and environmental rights
With the new presidency, Brazil has entered an unfortunate period of changes—to legislation, governmental structure, and foreign and public policy—that will set the nation back decades on the issues of climate, the environment and human rights. The new istration has made a host of extremely questionable decisions that signal the weakening of guarantees for indigenous peoples in Brazil, the Amazon, and the environment as a whole. Some of the reforms that most stand out include: The transfer of the Ministry of the Environment’s most important functions to the Ministry of Agriculture. The weakening of governmental entities responsible for monitoring cases of environmental crimes. The transfer of responsibility for demarcating indigenous lands from the National Indian Foundation (FUNAI) to the Ministry of Agriculture. The suspension of contracts signed between state entities and civil society organizations. The weakening of the process for granting environmental permits. Continuous threats to withdraw Brazil from international agreements on the protection of the environment and indigenous peoples, including the recent threat to leave ILO Convention 169. These changes seem to be just the beginning, and the outlook could worsen at any moment. The latest move to undermine environmental protection in Brazil is the apparent opening of indigenous lands to large-scale mining projects. In March, Brazil’s Minister of Mines and Energy announced to attendees of one of the largest global mining events (the annual convention of the Prospectors & Developers Association of Canada) that he would seek authorization for mining activities in indigenous and border areas. He stated that indigenous peoples would not have the autonomy to prevent the installation of mines in their territory. The State’s priority, this move implies, will be to promote irresponsible development over the protection of human rights. How mining threatens indigenous lands Last year, a government decree (Decree 9406) established drastic changes and new flexibility for mining activities, including successive extensions for permits in the event of lack of access, lack of consent or permission of the environmental agency, and the consideration that mining's foundations are the national interest and public utility. But mining itself is not in the national interest, since it implies great environmental damage and throws ecosystems out of balance. It must instead be recognized as a high-risk activity that causes destruction and contamination. Brazil has been incapable of safely regulating mining activities. We need only think of the rupture of two dams of mining waste in less than four years in the state of Minas Gerais. The first case in Mariana is considered the greatest environmental tragedy in Brazil’s history, and the second, earlier this year in Brumadinho, resulted in 197 deaths and 111 missing persons. If the government’s need for mining is undeniable, so is the need for stricter controls, the use of safer techniques, and a serious national assessment of the viability of each and every mine. Given the serious environmental damage associated with mining, its implementation on indigenous lands implies transferring those damages to a minority and vulnerable population that depends directly on the health of the environment for its physical and cultural survival. Indigenous communities have the constitutional right to be heard on projects that may affect them; some communities have even created protocols on how they want to be consulted. To build a mine against the will of a community is to violate their rights to life, to self-determination, to autonomy, to culture, to not being forcibly displaced, to benefit from their native territories, and to a healthy environment, among many others. The statements of the Minister of Mines and Energy represent a complete lack of commitment to the fundamental rights established in the Brazilian Constitution, as well as to internationally recognized human rights. They reveal a singular intention to appease investors, particularly the Canadian company behind the Belo Sun mining project, which seeks to mine indigenous lands already impacted by the construction of the Belo Monte Dam. In defense of indigenous peoples Mining on indigenous lands is not yet adequately regulated in Brazil. What the country needs is for Congress to approve a law that respects the fundamental rights of indigenous communities and protects their lands, while including communities in the process. The setbacks posed by the current istration have only strengthened the resistance of indigenous communities, and those of us who them. Civil society organizations like AIDA are committed to defending human rights, safeguarding indigenous territory, and holding governments and corporations able whenever they pose a threat.
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Conserving our water, drop by drop
Water is powerful. Even the idea of not having it in our daily life disturbs us. Yet we so often take it for granted. Many of us believe it will flow indefinitely, without having to do anything to guarantee its presence. As if to prove how wrong we are, reality has been hitting us harder and more frequently. In 2016, Bolivia suffered its worst drought in 25 years. Water scarcity affected five of the country’s nine departments, and a national emergency was declared. In the city of La Paz, seat of the federal government, the water cut-offs employed to confront the crisis led to some people having to subsist up to two days on only 50 liters of water. Bolivia isn’t an isolated case. Since 2010, central Chile has been experienced a mega-drought that is far from ending. And in 2018, the drought in Central America caused severe crop losses, putting the food of millions of people at risk. The causes of water shortages Water scarcity in Bolivia and other countries have common causes, problems that we must confront with urgency, such as: Climate change. Latin America is one of the world’s most vulnerable regions to climate change, which intensifies the water cycle, meaning the driest regions of the world are becoming even drier. Lack of long-term policies. Population growth has not been accompanied by policies for the more efficient use of water, or the better conservation of its sources. Inadequate water management. The management of water resources has not considered the growing demand on all sectors, the protection of natural sources, or the use of traditional and indigenous knowledge for conservation. Damages from extractive projects. An increase in mining activity in the region is contaminating rivers and using large quantities of water; fracking does as well. Large dams irreversibly damage important water basins. No culture of conservation. The growth of cities and the consequent growth of water consumption have not come accompanied with an increase in responsible citizenry. Best practices for water conservation It’s expected that the gap between water supply and demand in cities will reach 40 percent by 2030, so we must work quickly to implement good water management practices, including the following: Recycling wastewater from sewage systems, agriculture and industry. The reuse of water requires less energy than desalinization (which produces more toxic waste than water); it is also sustainable and profitable. Adopting solutions that take advantage of the natural processes that regulate the water cycle. They could be applied on a personal scale (for example, a dry toilet), at the landscape level (conservation agriculture that minimizes soil disturbance and uses crop rotation), or in urban environments (green walls and rooftop gardens). Harvesting rainwater and implementing better systems to store it would help reduce the impacts of future droughts. Applying appropriate environmental impact assessments would prevent the authorization of projects that threaten to damage natural sources of water supply. Motivating a change of mentality in key actors—those responsible for public policies, the private sector and consumers—would guarantee the availability and sustainable management of water. Humanity needs water, and for this year’s World Water Day, celebrated March 22, we the focus on “leaving no one behind.” At AIDA we understand that water is a human right. That’s why we work to defend the ecosystems that provide our water from the damages of inadequately implemented mega-projects.
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How fracking's methane leaks aggravate climate change
I’ve seen them more times than I can , but the shock never fades: ten-foot-high flames burning off gas at the BP processing plant in Whiting, Indiana. The facility is close to where I grew up, so we’ve had a lot of time to marvel at the flare stacks. My sister thought they were volcanoes when she was little and, in my family, the name has stuck. Converting waste methane to carbon dioxide (CO2) through flaring is common practice in oil and gas production. This makes “volcanoes” a familiar feature of drilling and hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, fields. The sight of stacks spewing CO2 directly into the air is both visually striking and enraging: a visual metaphor for a world run on extractive, dirty energy. And yet, when it comes to fracking, the volcanoes and their carbon emissions aren’t even the biggest problem. That which is most dangerous is often hardest to see—invisible, in this case. Fracking’s worst air pollution actually occurs through methane leaks. Methane is a greenhouse gas whose global warming potential is 86 times greater than carbon dioxide over a 20-year period, according to the Intergovernmental on Climate Change. It leaks stealthily at every point in the gas supply chain into our atmosphere, undetectable without advanced equipment and frequent tests. According to NASA, the oil and gas industry is responsible for the global rise in methane emissions, beating even landfills and dairy production. Many of these emissions come from leaking pipes attached to fracked gas wells. While many of fracking’s damages—the contamination of water tables, an increase in man-made earthquakes—are well documented, fracking’s air pollution is a more difficult battle to fight. There are no convenient visuals of tap water set on fire or flattened homes. But the fact that we can’t see methane leaking into the air doesn’t make its impact any less intense: diffuse toxic particles grip the throat like so many invisible hands; methane causes nosebleeds and asthma; gas leaks squeeze the brain into dizzying headaches and seizures; toxic additives cause babies to be born prematurely with low birth weight and life-threatening defects. Leaking methane is also of particular concern when it comes to climate change. When just less than 2 percent of a pipeline’s total carried methane leaks into the air, the gas loses its supposed “cleaner” climate advantage over even coal. Recent studies show that U.S. fracking fields leak at tremendously uneven rates, some up to a whopping 12 percent. In other words, only a small number of wells are responsible for an extreme amount of contamination. But this also means that we already have part of the solution: fixing leaks at these super-polluting fields would be a huge boon for climate regulation. Leak detention and repair requires frequent and careful oversight, but it is also cost-effective, and often actually pays for itself. Gas companies can patrol their own distribution lines, looking for and repairing leaks. Pneumatic pipeline controllers can be replaced with better, low-bleed controllers. This extra care, however, is exactly what fracking’s proponents fight against: the gas industry in the United States has long denied and diminished the severity of leaking pipelines. Like the greenhouse gas pollution that causes it, climate change is a slow-paced disaster. It is a long, diffuse emergency that, in a sound-byte world, isn’t dramatic enough for short-term elections and news cycles, and usually isn’t brought up until it’s too late. Alternatives to fracking But times are changing. And the solution to a warming world isn’t just about fixing leaks. We can’t just mitigate a life-threatening system; we have to end it. Instead of perpetuating our dependence on gas, we must invest in a just transition and move into economically sustainable forms of energy, like solar and wind. Gas delivery systems and their maintenance are as expensive as they are toxic, and will soon become obsolete. We must fight for better regulation of our present system, while building up alternatives for a better tomorrow. This is particularly important in parts of the world that are only now starting to embrace fracking. While somewhat ubiquitous in the global North, fracking has only just begun in Latin America, where roughly 5,000 wells have popped up in the past few years. Frontline communities and human rights defenders from across the Americas have fought hard to win bans or restrictions on fracking. They urge that their nations not fall for fracking’s trap—harms would be amplified by lax regulation and further aggravate climate change. In October they testified before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights on the harm fracking has caused to communities across Latin America. Liliana Ávila, a senior attorney at AIDA, explained that fracking-induced pollution impacts basic human rights, and that environmental defenders often face extreme violence when protecting their territories from the gas industry. Part of the battle for a global and just transition towards a sustainable, equitable energy economy is being able to recognize those harms that are harder to see—including those that are invisible at first. It’s the quiet harms that unfold over long time spans that are catching up to us now.
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Putting my heart in the conservation of wetlands
Coral reefs are my favorite wetlands. They’re full of so many colors and shapes, and simply teeming with life. When I’m underwater, my heart is full of peace and excitement, as I see myself surrounded by so many forms of life, so many species living together. As a marine biologist, I’ve had the opportunity to scuba dive in a variety of countries and see many of these beautiful ecosystems up close. Of all my dives, the ones I enjoyed most were those I did—for work and for pleasure—in the Bay Islands of Honduras. As a recent college graduate and volunteer with the Atlantic and Gulf Rapid Reef Assessment Program, I was in charge of monitoring the countless organisms that live in or on the reefs—seaweed, sea urchins, lobsters, queen snails, and so many others. Without a doubt, my time diving in the Cayos Cochinos sparked my personal and professional journey. Since then, I’ve set out to protect these magical ecosystems, vital to all life this planet. My current role, as scientific advisor to AIDA, uses science to strengthen the legal arguments employed to protect these and other at-risk natural environments in Latin America. Wetlands, vital and at-risk In addition to coral reefs, wetlands—characterized by the presence of water—include lakes and rivers, underground aquifers, swamps and marshes, grasslands, peat bogs, estuaries and deltas, mangroves, and sea grasses. Wetlands act as the “kidneys” of the planet because they recycle water and waste, retain sediment and nutrients, reduce erosion, and absorb carbon dioxide from the atmosphere, in turn mitigating climate change. However, it’s estimated that since 1700 we’ve lost nearly 87 percent of our wetlands at a speed three times greater than the loss of our natural forests. This has caused a drastic reduction in biodiversity, affecting 81 percent of continental species and 36 percent of marine and coastal species. Among the greatest threats to our wetlands are contamination by garbage, wastewater and industrial pollution; changes in land use; agricultural runoff, erosion and climate change. What’s more, global warming is increasing the temperature of the oceans, raising sea levels, and melting the poles. According to the Intergovernmental on Climate Change, an increase of 1.5°C in global temperature could kill almost 90 percent of the world’s coral reefs—an irreversible and heartbreaking loss. Taking action to save wetlands Given this frightening global scenario, urgent action is required to protect our planet’s wetlands. In fact, there are many ways we can begin to do so immediately, such as: Creating restoration campaigns for vital ecosystems like mangroves and coral reefs. Declaring natural protected areas, to conserve wetlands and the species that depend on them. Developing policies that allow for the rational use of wetlands, where conservation is prioritized. Prohibiting the destruction of these ecosystems in any type of project, be it tourism, development or infrastructure. Establishing water treatment plans to prevent drainage and runoff from contaminating wetlands. Every year, on February 2, we celebrate World Wetlands Day, commemorating the g of the Ramsar Convention, the only intergovernmental treaty for the conservation and rational use of our planet’s wetlands. This year’s celebration is focused on wetlands and climate change, inviting us all to reflect on the value of our wetlands, the critical services they provide, and urgency with which we must protect them. We are not powerless in the face of climate change. Saving our wetlands may just be the first step toward saving our planet, and ourselves.
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How ing women is linked to environmental justice
Although women lead struggles for the conservation of nature around the world, they are often excluded from decisions about the use of land, water and other natural resources. They’re disproportionately affected when inadequately implemented projects pollute air and water, or cause forced displacements and other damages. And they’re often more seriously impacted by climate change. In all of these cases, women—particularly indigenous women—are highly vulnerable to losing their way of life, their income, and their homes. At AIDA, we incorporate a gender perspective into our defense of the environment and human rights, recognizing that combating inequalities and differentiated harms is fundamental to achieving environmental justice in Latin America. “The gender approach allows us to defend the rights of women in an integral way, understanding that the risks and harms, as well as the policies needed to confront them, are different for men and women,” explained Senior Attorney Liliana Ávila. “Making this visible helps break through discrimination scenarios and effectively guarantee the right to equality.” Uplifting women’s voices Working with a gender focus, Liliana explained, has been a fascinating professional experience that has allowed her to understand how environmental damage affects men and women differently. She has listened to women explain how they view their territory, and what happens to it, distinctly from the men in their communities. In Northwest Guatemala, in the micro-region of Ixquisis, the construction of the Pojom II and San Andrés dams has damaged water sources. It has spread diseases and harmed fishing and agriculture, subsistence activities for local communities, largely made up of indigenous Mayan women. “It’s necessary to promote methodologies and spaces that make women’s voices heard, that enable and strengthen their participation, that demonstrate the differentiated harms they face, and that promote change to guarantee their rights,” Liliana said. AIDA legally s the resistance of the women of Ixquisis to the dam projects, both in national courts and before the Inter-American Development Bank, which finances the projects despite obvious conflict with its operating policies. Our work in Guatemala is possible thanks to the Global Alliance for Green and Gender Action (GAGGA), which s collaboration between movements and grassroots organizations to strengthen their role in the defense and promotion of women's rights and environmental justice. Since 2016, GAGGA has provided funds to women's movements and environmental organizations at the national, regional and global levels in more than 30 countries across Latin America, Africa, Asia and Europe. Women’s role in environmental defense By working hand in hand with communities across Latin America, AIDA attorneys have a close knowledge of the fundamental role that women play in protecting the environment and building equitable societies. “In Nayarit, Mexico indigenous women are playing a key role in defense of their land, water and the San Pedro Mezquital River,” said Camilo Thompson, AIDA attorney in Mexico. “And in the Gulf of California, women are leading efforts toward proper fisheries management.” Claudia Velarde, an AIDA attorney in Bolivia, says that her country has recognized that peasant women produce more food, so their experiences, visions, and knowledge must be incorporated into public food policies. “Personally, it has been very enriching for me to work both with and from the perspective of women,” she explained. “I’ve have had the opportunity to meet incredible women fighting to defend their territories from extractive activities like fracking. It’s helped me understand that the impacts of a single activity are experienced quite differently according to socially assigned gender roles.”
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Mine tailings dams: a history of failures
Once again, tragedy looms over Brazil. Last Friday, for the second time in less than four years, a tailings dam broke in the State of Minas Gerais—this time in the municipality of Brumadinho—leaving catastrophic human and environmental damage in its wake. Once again, the losses are incalculable. We’re faced with disappearances and death. We see the same, disconcerting images: survivors evacuated by helicopter; trees, animals, and homes covered in toxic sludge; a swollen river carrying mining waste downstream. Once again, nature and society have been damaged, torn apart. As if in an endless loop, the tragedy has repeated in Minas Gerais. Five similar incidents, at least of which there is evidence, occurred in 1986, 2001, 2007, 2014, and 2015. The tragedy in November 2015 in the city of Mariana is considered the worst environmental disaster in the history of Brazil. It destroyed the town of Bento Rodrigues and contaminated the Doce River basin, carrying toxic sludge all the way to the Atlantic Ocean. A tragic cycle Far from isolated events, the failures of mine tailings dams have become a common occurrence, and statistics suggest we can expect many more in the future. Like any infrastructure work, a dam has a certain useful life—a period of operation with a firm beginning and end. That period is based on the dam having adequate design, execution, and maintenance, something that often does not occur. Thanks to the World Information Service on Energy’s Uranium Project, we know that over the last 30 years there have been 73 accidents or incidents involving mine tailings dams worldwide. The United States (17), China (8) and the Philippines (7) lead the list of affected countries. The project’s database offers an of the main accidents and indicators including breakdowns, overshoots, collapses, partial failures, and lining ruptures. These figures should lead us to reflect on large-scale mining, particularly metal mining, which requires these types of dams and impoundments. Instead of continuing to build mines, wouldn’t it be better to concentrate our efforts on recovering and reusing the metal we discard? When will we transition to a circular economy that avoids such catastrophes? How many more disasters can our ecosystems and our human populations endure? Quite often, affected communities do not have objective or sufficient information about the benefits and harms of the mining projects proposed near their homes. Breaking that information gap is urgent. At AIDA we contribute to this task by providing useful information about the potential harms of mining, and using it to strengthen legal actions undertaken to protect people and the environment. It’s urgent that the governmental, non-governmental and private sectors do whatever is necessary to avoid more tragedies like those we’ve seen in Brazil. They must make a conscious decision to put the value of people and nature above profit. For more information, consult the database of major tailings dam failures: http://www.wise-uranium.org/mdaf.html 73 tailings dams have failed over the last 30 years, wreaking havoc on the environment and affected communities: https://t.co/G6xZibNIAk How many more avoidable disasters can we endure? #MinasGerais #BrumadinhoSOS #ValeAssassina #mining pic.twitter.com/ceuNTUUpkL — AIDA Americas (@AIDAorg) January 28, 2019
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Mining Arc threatens majestic lands of Southern Venezuela
For decades, one of the greatest socio-ecological tragedies in Latin America has been developing in Venezuela. Small-scale gold mining is inflicting irreversible damage to one of the continent’s most biodiverse natural areas. It’s happening South of the Orinoco River, amidst majestic waterfalls, impressive mesas, and long-established indigenous communities. Despite its major impacts on the states of Amazonas and Bolívar, mining there has advanced rather silently. Up until a few years ago, not many researchers were even paying attention. The situation changed in 2011, when then-President Hugo Chavez announced the creation of the Orinoco Mining Arc National Strategic Development Zone, a project finalized five years later through a presidential decree. Photo: Bram Ebus / Infoamazonía. Mining’s large-scale damages The Orinoco Mining Arc involves permitting undefined mining activities in 111,843 square kilometers of territory—an area larger than Guatemala and almost twice the size of the Orinoco Oil Belt. Its implementation has legitimized and exacerbated the damages of small-scale mining, chief among them water pollution, deforestation and the destruction of fertile soils. The project also aims to develop large-scale mining in this mega-diverse region. Now, independent researchers like Carlos Eduardo Pacheco and others, hailing from organizations such as the Venezuelan Society of Ecology and Provita, warn of the huge damages that may occur due to the nation’s lack of environmental regulation. Thanks to their studies, additional research, and an analysis of satellite images, we know that: in the area around the Mining Arc there exist at least five or six large pockets of deforestation, and hundreds of smaller ones; the Caroní and Ikabarú river basins are being destroyed; and damages have reached Caura and Canaima National Parks, as well as the territories of the Pemón, Yekuana, Akawayo and Yanomami indigenous people, among others. The consequences, the researchers warn, are not only ecological; they are social as well. There has been a mass exodus from major cities, people fleeing poverty and heading to the Mining Arc to seek economic opportunity. Photo: Bram Ebus / Infoamazonía. In addition, mining activity has lead to multiple reports of human trafficking, prostitution, drug trafficking, extortion, murder, and the presence of both paramilitary groups and guerillas from Colombia. Many of the mining projects in the zone are under the control of a mafia known as “Pranato Minero,” whose leaders are relatively unknown. Increased mining has also caused serious harms to the health of informal miners and their families due to the use of mercury. Statistics from the Ministry of People’s Power for Health demonstrate a strong increase in mortality—at least 500 percent between 2002 and 2013 in municipalities close to the Arc, including Sifontes, El Callao, Cedeño and Roscio. And large-scale transnational mining hasn’t been left out of the picture. Even Canadian companies that recently sued Venezuela for controversies related to their investments have returned as partners in the mining exploitation of Orinoco. Raising awareness of Orinoco In all this development, where is the social and environmental responsibility? There seems to be no place for ability in Venezuela, a nation with non-existent institutions and inapplicable laws. We must to ask what we can do, as of civil society, in the face of this latest chronicle of deforestation, mercury contamination, and outright destruction of the natural world of Southern Venezuela. At AIDA, we’re doing what we can by providing technical and scientific to the Venezuelan organizations studying the Mining Arc’s development. By ing them, we’re working to raise awareness of the issue and put one of the most serious social and environmental attacks in the region in the public eye.
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Six advances for Latin America’s reefs in 2018
In 2018, we ed people and organizations around the world in celebrating the International Year of the Reef. AIDA was part of a global movement to increase awareness of the value of reefs and the threats they’re facing. To advance reef conservation in the Americas, we took part in a variety of legal actions to protect reefs in Mexico and the Caribbean. As always, we’re proud to celebrate the small victories we’ve achieved on the road to environmental justice in 2018. Together with our ers and allies we: ed a case in defense of the Veracruz Reef In February, we presented an amicus brief in of an amparo filed by local residents against the expansion of the Port of Veracruz. We outlined how Mexico’s approval of the project in 2013 violated the nation’s international environmental and human rights commitments. Just a year earlier, the government had reduced the area of the reef system, changing its boundaries to make the project viable. At the time of authorization, adequate scientific information was not available to understand how to avoid damaging the reefs and protect the services they provide to the people of Veracruz. To raise awareness of the issue, we also co-produced a documentary, Battle for the Reefs of Veracruz. Alerted the Ramsar Convention to threats to Puerto Morelos Reef We sent an Urgent Alert to the Secretariat of the Ramsar Convention, alerting them to the threats to Puerto Morelos Reef National Park, a national protected area and Wetland of International Importance. Together with a coalition of civil society organizations, we solicited a visit of international experts to evaluate the risks facing the site, particularly changes in land use in coastal ecosystems due to massive and unsustainable tourism development. Created a Working Group on Threats to Mexico’s Wetlands In May, the Working Group on Threats was created within the National Wetlands Committee, which AIDA helped create in order to motivate Mexico to comply with its obligations to protect at-risk wetlands of international importance. Within the framework of this Group, efforts are being made to strengthen national actions to protect Ramsar ecosystems, including reefs and the herbivorous fish that make their home in them. ed the protection of 10 species of parrotfish in Mexico’s Caribbean In October we presented a letter of outlining international environmental and human rights arguments for the inclusion of 10 species of parrotfish on Mexico’s national list of at-risk species. While the inclusion has been acknowledged and accepted, official confirmation is expected early this year. Our efforts ed a proposal of the Health Reefs Initiative that seeks to legally protect parrotfish species, which are critical to maintaining a healthy coral reef ecosystem. Parrotfish and other herbivorous fish feed on algae that compete with corals for light and oxygen, thus enabling the reef to flourish. Helped Establish a Working Group on Corals in Costa Rica In coordination with the Ministry of Environment, we helped organize a working group of academic experts, of civil society and competent governmental authorities that will propose comprehensive solutions to the problems facing the country’s coral ecosystems. Together we will work to ensure integral solutions to protect Costa Rica’s coral reefs. ed a Working Group on Herbivorous Fish in Guatemala In coordination with the Healthy Reefs Initiative, academics from San Carlos University and of the government, we’ve ed the creation of a working group to draft a technical-scientific document that outlines the information necessary for a ministerial decree to prohibit the fishing of herbivorous fish in the Guatemalan Caribbean and, thus, protect the nation’s reefs.
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