In a year marked by mounting calls for climate justice and reparations, two landmark events have thrust the intertwined issues of colonial legacy, corporate accountability, and climate change into the global spotlight. Across continents, from the drought-stricken landscapes of Madagascar to the courtrooms of Belgium, victims and advocates are demanding recognition, responsibility, and real action from those they hold accountable for the escalating climate crisis.
The African Union’s declaration of 2025 as the “Year of Justice for Africans and People of African Descent through Reparations” set the stage for a renewed reckoning with history. It’s not just a slogan, but a rallying cry that’s gained new urgency as the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights deliberates a request for an advisory opinion on states’ human rights obligations in the context of climate change. At stake is whether the court will acknowledge the deep-rooted link between colonialism and the environmental vulnerabilities now plaguing millions across the continent.
According to Amnesty International, the scars of colonial-era policies are nowhere more evident than in Madagascar’s Androy region. In a report published July 30, 2025, the organization detailed how, between 1924 and 1929, French colonial authorities deliberately released genetically engineered cochineal parasites across some 40,000 hectares of drought-resilient vegetation. The result? The destruction of roughly 100 kilometers of vital plant cover each year, erasing a natural defense that had sustained the Antandroy people for generations. This wasn’t a minor ecological mishap. The loss of these plants meant the loss of food, water retention, and a buffer against the region’s chronic droughts—a buffer that, once gone, left the Antandroy exposed to recurring hunger, displacement, and death whenever drought struck.
Fast forward to today, and the consequences have only worsened. Madagascar’s droughts are now being intensified by human-induced climate change, a crisis driven largely by the greenhouse gas emissions of historically high-emitting nations—France among them. The devastation wrought by colonial policies has become a double-edged sword, with the Antandroy and others suffering from both the immediate effects of environmental destruction and the long-term impacts of a warming planet.
The scientific community has long recognized this grim synergy. In 2022, the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) highlighted how colonialism not only fueled the climate crisis but also left former colonies uniquely vulnerable to its effects: droughts, floods, cyclones, and rising sea levels. Yet, as Al Jazeera notes, scientific consensus alone isn’t enough. Without political will and legal clarity, the world’s most vulnerable are left with little recourse but to seek accountability in the courts.
That’s precisely what unfolded on the international stage when, in March 2023, Vanuatu—a former colony of France and the United Kingdom—led a coalition of nations in asking the International Court of Justice (ICJ) for an advisory opinion on states’ legal obligations regarding climate change. Their plea was clear: recognize the connection between colonial harms and contemporary climate injustices. But when the ICJ issued its opinion in July 2025, advocates were left disappointed. The word “colonialism” was conspicuously absent, and the court sidestepped the critical question of how far back in history claims for climate obligations can reach.
Despite this omission, the ICJ did affirm that states’ climate change obligations are rooted not just in treaties but also in customary international law. This means that responsibility can extend into the present if a wrongful act continues to infringe on human rights, regardless of when it originally occurred. For communities like the Antandroy, this is a crucial point: the greenhouse gases heating the planet today are, in large part, the legacy of fossil fuel burning that powered the industrial rise of colonial powers since the 1750s and their postwar recoveries. The destruction of drought-resistant vegetation in Madagascar, for example, was not an isolated act but part of a broader system of exploitation that fueled European economies and, ultimately, contributed to the climate crisis now threatening the very survival of former colonies.
Yet, the ICJ’s opinion also reinforced a longstanding barrier to reparations. The court stated that full reparation—whether through restitution, compensation, or satisfaction—is only possible when a “sufficiently direct and certain causal link” can be proven between the wrongful act and the injury. For colonial harms that have unfolded over decades or centuries, and whose impacts are compounded by myriad social and environmental factors, meeting this standard is a near-impossible task. As UN experts have observed, “the greatest barrier to reparations for colonialism and slavery is that the principal beneficiaries of both lack the political will and moral courage to make them a reality.”
Meanwhile, in Europe, another front in the battle for climate accountability opened on November 19, 2025. In the commercial court of Tournai, Belgium, farmer Hugues Falys began hearings in a lawsuit against TotalEnergies, one of the world’s largest oil companies. Supported by NGOs including FIAN, Greenpeace, and the International Federation for Human Rights (FIDH), Falys claims that climate-driven extreme weather—heavy rainfall, droughts, and heatwaves—has devastated his farm, reducing the yields of his meadows and crops. “Like all farmers, I am on the front line of climate change,” Falys stated in a release to Euronews Green. “However, climate change is not inevitable. Those responsible must be held accountable.”
This case, the first of its kind in Belgium, comes just days after TotalEnergies announced a $100 million climate investment at COP30. Yet, critics point out a glaring contradiction: the company has also confirmed a four percent increase in its hydrocarbon production, despite IPCC recommendations that such production must decrease to limit global warming to 1.5°C. “The solution to the climate crisis requires multinational companies to immediately stop new investments in fossil fuels to curb greenhouse gas emissions,” said Gaëlle Dusepulchre of FIDH. “We hope that the court will force TotalEnergies to invest truly in the green transition and to ensure that human rights are not endangered by climate breakdown.”
NGOs backing the lawsuit are calling for an immediate halt to new fossil fuel investments, arguing that corporate actions must align with the science and the urgent needs of those on the front lines. TotalEnergies, for its part, has not responded to requests for comment on whether it intends to change its investment strategy or accept responsibility for climate-related damages. A verdict in the case isn’t expected until early 2026, but its implications could be far-reaching, setting new precedents for corporate accountability in the age of climate change.
As the African Court weighs its advisory opinion and the Belgian court hears Falys’ case, the world is watching. Will legal systems finally bridge the gap between historical injustice and present-day suffering? Or will the burden of proof remain too high for those most affected by the legacies of colonialism and unchecked emissions? For the Antandroy people in Madagascar, for farmers in Belgium, and for millions more worldwide, the answer can’t come soon enough.
