As the world turns its gaze toward Belem, Brazil, where COP30 is set to convene in November 2025, the mood among climate diplomats and experts is anything but celebratory. Instead, a sense of urgency—tinged with apprehension—pervades the lead-up to what is billed as the world’s largest diplomatic gathering on climate change. Pakistan’s foremost climate and sustainable development expert, Ali T. Sheikh, has emerged as a candid voice warning that a perfect storm of geopolitical tensions, surging military budgets, and political denialism threatens to unravel three decades of painstaking climate cooperation.
Speaking in an exclusive interview with IPS and echoed in recent remarks covered by Dawn, Sheikh minced no words about the scale of the challenge. "The axe will fall on climate finance," he cautioned, referencing NATO’s July 2025 agreement to raise defense expenditure by 5% of GDP. "It will bring the world upside down and undo 30 years of climate cooperation since the first COP." The timing could not be more fraught, with right-wing extremism on the rise, corporations quietly scaling back on climate pledges, and militarism casting a long shadow over already strained international commitments to climate finance.
It’s not just the global context that has Sheikh worried. For Pakistan—a country repeatedly battered by climate disasters—the stakes are existential. In his words, "From the perspective of a developing country like Pakistan, statements that dismiss climate change as a ‘con job’ are not just politically charged—they are a profound denial of the lived reality of the people." Sheikh’s reference was pointed: former U.S. President Donald Trump’s 56-minute speech at the UN General Assembly on September 23, 2025, where Trump called climate change the "greatest con job ever," labeled green energy a "joke," and dismissed carbon footprints as a "hoax made up by people with evil intentions."
The consequences of such rhetoric, according to Sheikh, are dire. Pakistan ranks first on GermanWatch’s 2025 Climate Risk Index, a dubious distinction owed to "exceptionally high relative economic losses" from climate impacts. The catastrophic floods of 2022 and 2025, which submerged one-third of the country and displaced millions, serve as stark reminders that climate change is not some distant specter. "It is immediate and existential," Sheikh said, noting that the 2022 floods alone caused over $30 billion in damages and set Pakistan’s economy back by years.
Yet, amid the devastation, Sheikh sees opportunity—if Pakistan is willing to pivot its approach. "When we go to Brazil, we should not go there to ask. Instead, offer a partnership," he advised. Pakistan, he argued, has much to showcase, including the Sindh Flood Emergency Housing Reconstruction Project and the successful evacuation of more than 3 million people during the most recent floods. "For us, a transition to cleaner energy and greater climate resilience is not a political choice—it is a matter of national survival and economic stability," he explained. "It is about protecting our agricultural backbone, which feeds millions, from unpredictable monsoon seasons and droughts. It is about safeguarding our urban centers and rural communities from floods and heatwaves."
Sheikh’s prescription for COP30 is clear: Pakistan must articulate its priorities—improved construction standards for climate-resilient housing and infrastructure, leveraging technologies like artificial intelligence—and seek partnerships, not just aid. He also urged a strategic shift in diplomatic engagement. "Our pavilions at COPs are often set up in a way that we end up speaking only to ourselves," he observed. "Instead, look for opportunities to present Pakistan’s case at other countries’ or organizations’ pavilions—where the audiences are broader, more diverse, and more influential."
But the challenges don’t end at Pakistan’s borders. Sheikh stressed the regional nature of climate threats, from Himalayan glacial lake outburst floods to Arabian Sea tropical storms. He called for renewed efforts at regional cooperation, particularly with India. "Even a modest conversation between the two neighbours could mark a critical first step," he said, referencing the Indus Waters Treaty, which India has held in abeyance since the April 2025 attack in Pahalgam, Indian-administered Kashmir. In Sheikh’s view, COP30 could serve as a neutral venue to restart dialogue, at least on transparent data-sharing for monsoon rainfall—an issue with life-or-death implications for millions.
Sheikh’s insights pull back the curtain on the inner workings of COPs. Far from the grand speeches and official declarations, he described a world where "much of the real action happens outside the plenary halls—through off-stage diplomacy, in corridors, coffee lines, and side events, where coalitions are quietly built and deals informally struck." According to him, this behind-the-scenes deal-making, involving private sector actors, like-minded nations, and NGOs, is often more dynamic and consequential than what unfolds in the official record.
The choice of Brazil as host—after three consecutive years of oil-producing autocratic states—has raised both hopes and skepticism. With COP30 taking place in Belem, at the edge of the Amazon rainforest, expectations are sky-high for Brazil to lead on deforestation, biodiversity, indigenous rights, and climate justice. Yet, as Sheikh pointed out, "delivering on these expectations may prove challenging," given ongoing deforestation and new oil drilling within Brazil’s own borders. "The bar is high, but the reality is sobering," he said, noting that the climate finance architecture remains stuck on "who pays, who delivers, and how quickly."
The absence of major players like the U.S. from COP30’s official proceedings only complicates matters. "It [US] wasn’t there in Azerbaijan either," Sheikh observed, referring to COP29. "That didn’t stop it from influencing and affecting negotiations behind the scenes—through its alliances and financial commitments." For many developing countries, this raises uncomfortable questions about the sincerity of global commitments and the future of climate finance.
Critics have not been shy about airing their frustrations with the COP process, accusing recent conferences of being "all about empty promises and inaction," and even tainted by oil money. Sheikh, however, cautioned against dismissing these gatherings outright. "To say that nothing ever happens and it’s a waste of everyone’s time is a simplistic view," he said. For frontline countries like Pakistan, every diplomatic space matters. "It may not always deliver breakthroughs, but it offers opportunities—if we are prepared to seize them."
As 50,000 delegates, including 150 heads of state, descend on Belem between November 10 and 21, the world will be watching to see if COP30 can rise above the swirl of geopolitics, skepticism, and competing interests. For Pakistan and other climate-vulnerable nations, the hope is not just for another round of speeches, but for action that matches the scale of the crisis. The stakes, as Sheikh reminds us, are nothing less than survival itself.
