On September 24, 2025, seven Indigenous peoples from Ecuador’s Amazon region made headlines by fiercely criticizing the government’s sweeping $47 billion plan to expand oil exploration deep into their ancestral lands. The Ministry of Energy and Mines’ ambitious “hydrocarbon roadmap,” announced in August, aims to auction rights for 49 oil and gas projects. While officials tout the plan as a way to modernize Ecuador’s oil industry, attract foreign investment, and boost production, Indigenous leaders and environmentalists are raising the alarm about the consequences for both their communities and the fragile Amazon ecosystem.
According to ABC and the Associated Press, the government’s proposal would offer dozens of blocks of land for oil exploration, with 18 of those blocks overlapping Indigenous territories—an area roughly the size of Belgium. This is not a minor encroachment. For the Andwa, Shuar, Achuar, Kichwa, Sapara, Shiwiar, and Waorani peoples, the stakes are existential. They argue that the government is trampling constitutional protections and international rights to free, prior, and informed consent.
Nemo Guiquita, a Waorani leader with the Confederation of Indigenous Nationalities of the Ecuadorian Amazon, put it bluntly: “The government is pushing ahead with plans to auction 18 oil blocks in our ancestral territories without free, prior and informed consent. That is a constitutional and international right the state is violating.” The sense of urgency and betrayal is palpable. Indigenous leaders say the government ignored recent court rulings that struck down earlier consultation processes as unconstitutional. Their frustration is compounded by the fact that, in their view, the state is recycling old, flawed strategies—offering up Amazon oil fields yet again, despite repeated resistance and legal challenges.
“There have been protests, lawsuits and companies forced to withdraw in the past, but now they are once again offering up Amazon oil fields,” Guiquita said. “We are resisting, and we call on the international community to oppose this expansion and help protect the Amazon and our rights.”
The Ministry of Energy and Mines, for its part, has insisted that a 2012 consultation with Indigenous groups remains valid and that the current hydrocarbon plan follows all existing legal frameworks. However, Indigenous communities say they were not meaningfully consulted about this new round of auctions. The government has already opened new licensing rounds: in April 2025, international firms submitted bids for four oil blocks, and officials have signaled that further auctions in the Amazon and sub-Andean regions are planned for late 2025 and 2026.
President Daniel Noboa, who took office in late 2023, has doubled down on resource extraction as a cornerstone of his fiscal strategy. With oil accounting for about a third of government revenue in some years, and production hovering around 480,000 barrels per day, Noboa’s administration is betting big on attracting foreign capital to stabilize public finances. But this approach is drawing fierce criticism—not only from Indigenous groups but also from environmentalists, who say Ecuador’s much-touted green reputation is unraveling fast.
Recent moves by Noboa’s administration have only intensified these concerns. The government has moved to scrap Ecuador’s independent Environment Ministry and backed a law allowing private and foreign entities to co-manage conservation zones. Critics argue this weakens environmental protections and puts Indigenous land rights at further risk. The Associated Press notes that these policy shifts have alarmed both domestic and international observers, especially as they come on the heels of a landmark referendum in Yasuní National Park.
That referendum, held in 2023, was a watershed moment: 59% of Ecuadorians voted to keep oil in the ground in Yasuní, one of the most biodiverse places on Earth. Yet, as Nadino Calapucha, a Kichwa leader, pointed out, the government appears to be ignoring the will of the people. “Ecuador already showed its will in the Yasuní referendum, when 59% voted to keep oil in the ground. Yet the government insists on imposing extraction, violating our rights,” Calapucha said. His words echo a broader sentiment of disenfranchisement among Indigenous communities, many of whom feel sidelined in decisions that directly impact their lives and lands.
The dispute has spilled into the streets. Amid a state of emergency and a national strike over fuel prices, extractive projects, and the government’s failure to honor the Yasuní referendum, tensions have reached a boiling point. On Tuesday, farmers, Indigenous groups, and transport unions clashed with police outside the town of Tabacundo as nationwide protests entered their second day. These protests are not just about oil—they represent a broader pushback against what many see as the government’s disregard for democratic and constitutional processes.
Internationally, the ripples of Ecuador’s oil strategy are being felt as well. California’s state senate recently expressed concern over imports of Amazon crude and approved a resolution to examine the state’s role as one of the world’s top buyers. This move underscores how decisions made in Quito can reverberate far beyond Ecuador’s borders, potentially affecting global markets and environmental policy debates.
Environmental groups like Amazon Watch have also weighed in. Kevin Koenig, the organization’s director for climate, energy, and extraction industry, didn’t mince words: “Ecuador’s plans to auction new oil blocks in the Amazon are doomed to fail. Indigenous resistance, civil society mobilization, and growing international pressure will continue to expose these projects as illegitimate, unlawful, and unfinanceable.” For many, Koenig’s assessment captures the uphill battle the government faces—not just from local communities, but from a growing chorus of global voices demanding accountability and sustainability.
Supporters of the government’s plan argue that Ecuador desperately needs the revenue from oil and mining to fund public services and stabilize its economy. They point to declining oil output over the past decade and the country’s ongoing fiscal challenges as justification for seeking new investments. The Ministry of Energy and Mines maintains that its hydrocarbon roadmap complies with all relevant laws and is essential for the country’s future prosperity.
But for Indigenous leaders, the argument is about more than economics. It’s about survival, sovereignty, and respect for rights enshrined in both the Ecuadorian constitution and international law. “The Amazon is not for sale. We will defend our territories because we have not been consulted—this is our home,” said Calapucha. The message is clear: any development that fails to secure free, prior, and informed consent from affected communities is not just controversial—it’s fundamentally illegitimate in their eyes.
As the government presses ahead with its oil expansion plans, the standoff with Indigenous groups shows no sign of abating. With legal battles, street protests, and international scrutiny all intensifying, Ecuador finds itself at a crossroads. The outcome will not only determine the fate of its Amazon region but could also set a precedent for how resource extraction projects are handled in Indigenous territories worldwide.
In the midst of this high-stakes struggle, the voices of Amazonian peoples and their allies continue to ring out—demanding to be heard, and refusing to be sidelined as decisions about their future are made.
