Belém (Brazil): Days after protests at the UN-led climate meetings in Brazil’s Belem led to global relief at the return of democracy to COP, the woman leader in a photo seen around the world, 38-year-old, Alessandra Korap Munduruku, has been issued numerous death threats, so much so that another activist says that she has found it difficult to travel back to her home in Itaituba of the Pará state in the Brazilian Amazon.

As the COP30 climate meetings wrap up in Belem, one of the most enduring takeaways has been the protests, mostly by indigenous people. Many called them “colourful” and they seemed to have healed a wound left by the last three COPs in countries which have a rotten history of cracking down on people’s movements. 

An image which was widely used by papers and news outlets including The Wire was that of an indigenous woman pointing while speaking and riot police standing guard behind her. This is Alessandra.

“Alessandra is a fierce and powerful leader. This is not new for her, she has been threatened before. But now she has to wait to get home,” says Taily Terena, an indigenous climate activist.

Speaking to The Wire after a press conference at the COP30 venue, Taily said that Alessandra has already had her house attacked and invaded. Reports of attacks on Alessandra go back to 2019. 

Alessandra is an indigenous leader of the Munduruku people, who found that the mercury being left behind by gold miners was leading to long-lasting and crippling physical impacts for tribespeople. A trailblazer with her activism, Alessandra has always been vocal about plans to ‘develop’ the Amazon that are made not just without consultation with the original residents but entirely disregarding their presence. 

Taily mentions that the place where she and her people, the Terena Nation, live – in the world’s largest wetlands called Pantanal – is routinely in the top five worst places to live for a human rights defender. Last week, two people were killed defending their rights to the land, she said.

Indigenous people hold the key to the Amazon and have protected it for generations. Now, agribusiness interests present an extraordinary and relentlessly cruel hurdle in them continuing to do so. Agribusiness is a behemoth in the Amazons and their efforts are not confined to polite coercion alone – even though more than 300 agriculture lobbyists have arrived at COP30.

And so it is that Alessandra, who for Brazil is a shining example of its democratic protest culture, is vilified at home for leading the same agitation which helped earn her country pats on the back.

During the Munduruku people’s protests, there was a photo of the COP president Andrea Correa de Lago holding a toddler in traditional headgear. The toddler is looking up at him, wide-eyed and expectant, in a way that makes you wonder how innately kind de Lago must be to inspire such trust.

Taily likens this to the exact kind of tokenism that the indigenous people have seen authorities get away with for years now. “We are reduced to being “observers” [Taily holds up her UN ‘observer’ lanyard here] in a discussion which won’t even recognise us as an equal part of the process,” she says. 

It is also noteworthy that the UN climate change executive secretary wrote to Brazilian authorities, reportedly pressing for heightened security, which was given – after dozens of indigenous protesters clashed with security guards on November 12 at the summit.

 

Taily’s words echo around Aldeia COP, the indigenous people’s village to which 3,000 leaders have travelled from across Brazil. Through the time of the climate discussions, indigenous people have led lively agitations – emphatic with drumbeats, dancing, singing and honest posters. The Aldeia COP campus is a bustling village where you can buy indigenous jewelry, get traditional designs painted on your arm and also have a conversation on why so many are here with their young children in tow.  

Uilton Tuxa works at the Ministry of Indigenous Peoples in Brazil, but was at the protests as he felt it was about time that indigenous people be given land rights – through proper demarcation exercises that were promised in the Brazilian constitution in 1988. The indigenous activist Lennon Corezomaè echoes him at the protest. Both spoke in Brazilian Portuguese and were translated by the journalist Beatriz Santomauro. 

Raoni Metuktire, the legendary leader of the indigenous Kayapó people, has told reporters that this is a rare opportunity. "We can talk about what’s happening, the destruction, the deforestation...," he has said. 

From Raoni to Taily to Uilton, indigenous people note that it is vital for them to show up as people who can speak in their own voice for themselves. “One missive to the youth by [UN Climate Change executive secretary] Simon Steill won’t solve our problems,” Taily said.

On November 17, shortly after the protests, Brazil’s Minister of Indigenous Peoples Sonia Guajajara announced the demarcation of 10 indigenous land parcels – doing which will protect them from agribusinesses and mining. Brasilia journalist Lis Cappi who was present when the announcement was made, said that the minister had initially not mentioned what exactly those lands were going to be. When Cappi asked her, Guajajara did not reply. Clarity only came later in the evening.

But Taily adds that there is nuance to this situation as well. “It is too early to say that the land has been recognised as indigenous-owned because the whole recognition process takes four to five years. It has just started. There are lands that have been waiting for over 30 years to be demarcated,” she said. 

In a protest outside the Aldeia COP village on November 17, young indigenous people carried a gigantic serpent with them as they walked five kilometres to the COP venue in the blazing sun. Two days later, this serpent made its way into the COP30 Blue Zone’s designated protest site in another protest – this time by a gathering of indigenous people from around the world. Alaska activist Aakaluk Blatchford said the serpent signified greed and also the culmination of the several creation myths from around the world that have had a snake play an integral part in them.

With myths, protest paraphernalia and the common cause lending themselves to the protests across the COP venue, you might think that all these demonstrations look the same. But even when they are organised by the same people, they do not look the same on two different occasions. Care is taken to make the protests as engaging as interesting.

The Asian Peoples' Movement on Debt and Development were, on November 17, agitating for K-pop – and not fossil fuels – to be Korea’s main export. A man in a hanbok gave a rousing speech.

But on November 20, the same group was enacting games of ‘greenwashing bingo’ and 'just transition bingo'. Greenwashing is the presentation of an environmentally responsible public image while continuing harmful practices. Many large companies are accused of it. “I believe in the environment. So I like to paint my private jet with eco paint,” says an activist wearing a ‘greenwashing negotiator’ hat, to loud ‘boo’s.

Among protesters are prominent names, like the New Delhi-based Harjeet Singh of the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty Initiative.

At the Green Zone, activists are engaged in a discussion about Israel’s genocide in Palestine and do not believe there is climate justice without justice in Gaza, where close to 70,000 civilians have been killed by Israeli strikes in the last two years. A speaker quotes the Koran. Youngsters in keffiyehs take a million photos. A cutout of the Curupira – the COP30’s flame-haired Amazonian mascot – is wearing a keffiyeh too. 

A giant capybara cutout is lying on the floor, preparing for a protest by the environmental organisation 350.org. "Mind the Gapybara," it says – in ostensible reference to the emissions and climate adaptation gaps highlighted by the UN just before COP30.

A man in an elephant costume is asked to stand to the left of the corridor and not the right. The elephant trundles to the left obligingly. 

Some activists are famous in their own right. Sustaina Claus, a COP veteran, gives a thousand interviews a day. A genial old man in Santa Claus clothing, Philip McMaster is the ‘Santa Claus of Sustainable Development’. He has, however, admitted in several interviews that he is not a fan of the little progress in this department.

There is undeniable bonhomie in the protests, despite the acute seriousness of their messages. For many, the site of their protest is their own body – a headdress, a pin, a ‘STOP ADANI NOW’ earring. 

But not all activists are as clear in their messaging. For days outside the COP venue, in the unforgiving sun, some sweetly-smiling and middle-aged women have been standing in traditional Asian clothing, asking people to go vegan. When I ask them about their organisation, a woman thrusts a book at me and then points me to a man who identifies himself as Jeremy from Florida. 

“75% of our land is used to farm for animal agriculture, just to feed the animals. We only really need 5% to feed the humans. If everyone goes vegan, 75% is available to us,” smiles Jeremy. 

And then, he adds, “We are also a spiritual organisation.” The book they give me is written by one Ching Hai, who is identified as a 'Supreme Master' and says that veganism can push us closer to god. 

This article went live on November twenty-third, two thousand twenty five, at zero minutes past six in the morning.

The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments.