In the heart of the Amazon, the city of Belém, Brazil, has become the epicenter of global climate diplomacy as the 30th United Nations Climate Conference (COP30) unfolds, marked by high-stakes negotiations, mounting tensions, and a chorus of competing interests. With the world’s eyes trained on the summit, the event has grown into more than a routine gathering—it’s a crucible testing the world’s resolve to confront the climate crisis head-on, even as consensus remains elusive and the clock ticks past scheduled deadlines.
Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva set the tone early on November 19, appearing before delegates and the press with a message that cut through the diplomatic haze. “Climate issues are no longer an academic matter for a few intellectuals or environmentalists. The climate crisis is now extremely serious and threatens humanity,” Lula declared, according to Caixin. Yet, in a move that surprised some, Lula steered away from hardline mandates or strict deadlines. Instead, he called for a global “roadmap” to transition away from fossil-fuel dependence—a plan to reduce greenhouse gas emissions that, in his words, would be developed “without imposing anything on anyone, without setting deadlines.” The approach, Lula argued, would allow nations to move at their own pace, reflecting the complex realities faced by both developed and developing countries.
But as the summit stretched past its Friday deadline, the optimism of Lula’s opening remarks was tested by the grinding reality of international climate politics. COP30 President André Corrêa do Lago made a public plea to delegates, urging them to bridge their differences: “This cannot be an agenda that divides us. We must reach an agreement between us.” The urgency was palpable, yet so was the deadlock—especially over the future of oil, gas, and coal. A draft text released by Brazil before dawn on Friday, November 21, omitted any reference to fossil fuels, removing options for a phased transition that had appeared in earlier versions. This omission laid bare the deep rifts among countries and cast doubt on whether a meaningful consensus could be reached.
The stakes could hardly be higher. Eighty-seven countries—including Australia, Belgium, Brazil, Denmark, Germany, the Netherlands, South Korea, Spain, Fiji, and Vanuatu—supported an earlier version of the roadmap to transition away from fossil fuels. Yet, some major players, such as the Philippines, were notably absent from this coalition. According to GMA News, Philippine climate groups lambasted their government’s silence on the fossil fuel phaseout, especially as the nation reeled from the devastation of Typhoons Tino and Uwan in November, which left hundreds dead. Yeb Saño, national director of Sentro para sa Ikauunlad ng Katutubong Agham at Teknolohiya (SIKAT, Inc.), minced no words: “The silence from the Philippine delegation on the fossil fuel phaseout roadmap at #COP30 in Belem is deafening, especially given what our people have just endured this very month. … It is a betrayal of every Filipino who lost a home or a loved one.”
While some countries called for clear targets and timelines, others resisted, citing economic and political sensitivities. The Arab Group, whose 22 members include Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, reportedly warned behind closed doors that targeting their energy industries would collapse the negotiations. Saudi Arabia, delivering a statement on behalf of the group, insisted that their industries were off-limits—a position that underscored the formidable obstacles to global agreement. Meanwhile, the European Union’s climate commissioner, Wopke Hoekstra, publicly rejected the draft deal as unacceptable, stating, “We need to make sure that the shift from fossil fuels to clean energy is real and in the text.”
Beyond the negotiating rooms, the summit was awash with the influence of industry. More than 1,600 fossil fuel lobbyists attended COP30, outnumbering nearly every national delegation except the host, Brazil. According to a study by Kick Big Polluters Out, lobbyists outnumbered the Philippine delegation by 50 to 1, raising concerns about the sway of corporate interests over the climate agenda. The event itself was not without its own logistical headaches, including a fire that disrupted the penultimate day of talks, adding to the sense of urgency and chaos.
One of the most contentious developments at COP30 was the aggressive promotion of “degraded pasture recovery” programs by pesticide giants like Syngenta. As reported by DeSmog, these companies used the summit to showcase initiatives that aim to convert 40 million hectares of damaged pasture—an area almost twice the size of the UK—into zones for food crops and biofuels over the next decade. Brazil’s government sees this as a way to reduce pressure on forests and nearly double the country’s food production area without further deforestation. The government even raised 30 billion reals (about $5.6 billion) in August 2025 to fund the recovery of 1.4 million hectares under its Caminho Verde program.
Syngenta, the world’s largest pesticide company, was particularly active, touting its Reverte program as a flagship sustainability initiative. The company claims to have enrolled 400 farms in Brazil and aims to expand to an area the size of Jamaica by 2030, with plans to move into Paraguay. The program, run in partnership with Brazil’s largest bank, Itaú Unibanco, offers low-interest loans to farmers who adopt Syngenta’s digital technologies and pesticides—ostensibly under a “zero deforestation” goal. “We’re increasing carbon in the soil, and we’re improving rural prosperity,” said Gabriel Moura, Syngenta’s sustainability coordinator, at a COP30 panel.
Yet, environmental campaigners and smallholder farmers voiced deep skepticism. “There is a clear attempt to hijack the climate debate to expand input markets,” said Gerson Barbossa, a Brazilian grower and representative of La Via Campesina, in an interview with DeSmog. Critics warn that expanding intensive agriculture in these areas will lead to a surge in pesticide use, with severe consequences for rural communities and biodiversity. Studies have already linked pesticides used in expanding soy production to increases in childhood leukemia in Brazil, and nearly all chemical pesticides are derived from fossil fuels, further entangling the climate and pollution crises.
The government acknowledges that its own Caminho Verde program is projected to increase fertilizer demand by 10 million tonnes by 2035. Meanwhile, a 2024 study by the Climate Policy Initiative found that nearly three-quarters of areas rehabilitated under a previous Brazilian scheme remained unchanged after four years, casting doubt on the efficacy of such programs.
As COP30 negotiations dragged on, the draft deal called for a tripling of global financing for climate adaptation by 2030, but left vague whether this would come from wealthy nations, development banks, or the private sector. This lack of clarity frustrated poorer countries, who have long sought stronger guarantees of public support. The draft also proposed a new "dialogue" on trade at future U.N. climate talks—a move welcomed by countries like China, but one that could prove uncomfortable for the European Union, whose carbon border levy has been criticized by emerging markets.
With the summit’s official end time long since passed and negotiations continuing late into the night, the world waits to see whether COP30 will deliver a breakthrough or simply another round of promises. For now, the Amazonian city of Belém stands as a microcosm of the global climate struggle—where ambition, compromise, and the realities of power collide, and where the outcome remains as uncertain as ever.
