At the 30th United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP30) in Belém, Brazil, the world’s attention has turned to both the promise and the pitfalls of global climate diplomacy. As nearly 200 nations gathered to chart a decisive course away from fossil fuels, the event has been marked by soaring ambitions, logistical headaches, and a groundswell of activism—particularly from youth and Indigenous leaders demanding urgent action.
On November 18, 2025, the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) Executive Secretary Simon Stiell sent a pointed letter to COP30 President Ambassador André Corrêa do Lago and Rui Costa dos Santos, chief of staff to Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. Stiell’s message was clear: delegates were sweltering in stifling heat, dodging leaks from the venue’s makeshift roofs, and contending with restrooms that simply didn’t work. “Immediate intervention is urgently required to safeguard the well-being of delegates and personnel, and to maintain essential conference operations,” Stiell wrote, according to Inside Climate News.
These complaints weren’t just about comfort. With daily highs in Belém hovering around 90 degrees Fahrenheit, humidity at 80 percent, and near-daily rainstorms, the indoor environment had become a health hazard. Several participants and staff reported heat-related illnesses. The venue—mainly inflatable tents on an old airport runway—offered little relief. Attempts to crank up the air conditioning led to strong indoor winds and high noise levels, making it nearly impossible to hold the face-to-face discussions that are the lifeblood of these negotiations.
Research from Brazil in 2025 has shown that such heatwaves are not only more frequent and intense due to global warming, but also linked to rising rates of violence, including homicides. The environmental engineer Kerry Kinney, cited by Inside Climate News, warned that poor indoor conditions can impair cognitive function and decision-making—critical at a summit where the fate of the planet is debated.
Yet, as the air thickened and tempers flared, the sense of urgency outside the negotiating rooms only grew. Ministers from Colombia, Germany, Kenya, the Marshall Islands, Sierra Leone, the United Kingdom, and many others stood united with Brazil in support of a roadmap to phase out fossil fuels—an effort aimed squarely at keeping global warming within the 1.5°C limit agreed to in Paris a decade ago. Colombia, in particular, has taken the lead among approximately 80 countries backing the inclusion of this roadmap in the final COP agreement, according to DW.
The stakes have never been higher. An analysis of this year’s emissions reduction pledges shows that, even if every country delivers, the world is on track for a catastrophic 2.6 to 2.8°C of warming by 2100. The so-called “ambition gap”—the chasm between promised cuts and what’s needed—remains dangerously wide. “None of the options amount to an effective action plan for closing the ambition gap,” said Jan Kowalzig, Oxfam Germany’s senior climate policy adviser, as reported by DW.
Inside the conference halls, the mood was both hopeful and tense. Tina Stege, the Marshall Islands’ climate envoy, invoked the spirit of Mutirao—a Portuguese term meaning “collective effort”—in calling for a unified push to decarbonize. “This is the most cohesive first-draft package a COP Presidency has put on the table in years,” said Gustavo Pinheiro from the think tank E3G, suggesting that Belém had a real shot at a political breakthrough.
However, the pro-roadmap coalition faces resistance from oil-producing nations such as Saudi Arabia and Iran, which have long opposed strong language on fossil fuels. And while the COP Presidency’s draft text included options for annual checks on emissions progress and a joint decarbonization roadmap, critics worry that the language remains too weak and noncommittal.
Beyond emissions, the financial divide between rich and poor nations simmered. Developing countries, already on the front lines of climate impacts, pressed for greater financial support to adapt to intensifying weather extremes. Sierra Leone’s environment minister, Jiwoh Abdulai, put it bluntly: “The cost of adaptation is increasing much faster than we can afford.” The United Nations Environment Programme estimates that developing nations will need about $310 billion annually by 2035 just to adapt. Germany, the largest donor to the adaptation fund, pledged €60 million this year, but many say that’s a drop in the bucket.
Meanwhile, trade tensions surfaced as some developing countries voiced fears that climate policies like the European Union’s Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism could become de facto trade barriers, making their exports less competitive. China and India pushed for language opposing such unilateral measures, while the EU stood firm, insisting its actions were about climate, not trade warfare.
Amid the high-level wrangling, youth and Indigenous voices resonated through the venue. COP30 Youth Champion Marcele Oliveira issued a clarion call: “Fossil fuels are destroying dreams,” she declared, describing the transition away from fossil fuels as “the most important climate justice mobilization of this generation,” according to UN News. Oliveira emphasized the need for children and young people to be central to every COP30 discussion, and called for recognition of local, youth-led collective action.
UN Secretary-General António Guterres, meeting with youth delegates, offered a rare apology. “Past generations failed to contain the climate crisis,” he admitted, urging young people to join him in the “decisive battle” to ensure that any overshoot of the 1.5°C threshold is as brief as possible. Guterres stressed that youth pressure is indispensable, especially in confronting powerful lobby groups “putting profits above the well-being of the international community and the planet.”
The emotional weight of the moment was palpable. Sixteen-year-old João Victor da Silva from Brazil told Guterres, “We don’t want to be activists, we just want to be children and adolescents, but unfortunately adults are not making the right decisions.” From Aruba, Nigel Maduro shared that his childhood beaches are disappearing, warning that negotiations move “perhaps too slowly for his island nation.”
Indigenous leader Txai Suruí described the youth meeting as one of the most hopeful moments of COP30, but warned that the Amazon is “dangerously close to a tipping point that could push the forest toward desertification.” She noted that protests—though sometimes unwelcome by certain countries—are a defining and democratic feature of this year’s summit, serving as a check on leaders to make decisions in favor of life.
But the right to protest itself has come under threat. Following a security breach in which about 150 demonstrators entered the negotiation area without credentials, the UNFCCC called for increased security. Human Rights & Climate Change Working Group, a coalition of over 200 NGOs, fired back, warning that heightened security could suppress peaceful protest, especially for Indigenous Peoples and environmental defenders. The International Indigenous Peoples Forum on Climate Change echoed this sentiment, saying the request for more security “is replicating the form of state violence Indigenous Peoples and human rights defenders face across our territories.”
As the marathon negotiations entered their final stretch, the world watched to see whether COP30 would deliver on its promise of implementation—or fall short amid logistical woes and political gridlock. For many in Belém, the outcome will hinge not only on the words etched into final agreements, but on the ability of leaders to listen to those most affected and to act with the urgency that the science—and the youth—demand.
