On the morning of November 14, 2025, the United Nations climate conference in Belém, Brazil, found itself at the center of a powerful and peaceful demonstration. About 100 Indigenous protesters, most dressed in traditional attire, formed a human chain to block the main entrance to COP30, the annual summit meant to chart the world’s response to climate change. Their message was clear: the time for empty promises had passed, and the voices of those living in the Amazon needed to be heard—urgently and directly.
This wasn’t the first time that week that Indigenous groups had disrupted the conference’s flow. According to The Associated Press, the Friday morning protest lasted for about 90 minutes, forcing conference participants to detour through a side door and resulting in long lines to enter the venue. The demonstrators, led by the Munduruku people, were soon encircled by a second human chain formed by environmental activists, all united in their call for action and recognition.
Security was tight; Brazilian military personnel prevented demonstrators from entering the site, and the army was called in to reinforce security, as reported by UN News. Despite the heightened presence, the atmosphere remained peaceful. One protester, Cris Julião Pankararu of the Pankararu people, captured the spirit of the event, saying, “I wish that warmth would melt the coldness of people.” For many, the demonstration was less an act of defiance and more, as one participant put it, “a scream” over rights violated and decisions made without proper consultation.
The Munduruku’s demands were explicit and uncompromising. In a written statement released by the Munduruku Ipereg Ayu Movement, they declared, “President Lula, we are here in front of COP because we want you to listen to us. We refuse to be sacrificed for agribusiness. Our forest is not for sale. We are the ones who protect the climate, and the Amazon cannot continue to be destroyed to enrich large corporations.” Their requests included revoking plans for commercial river development, canceling a grain railway project that has sparked fears of further deforestation, clearer demarcation of Indigenous territories, and a rejection of deforestation carbon credits—an issue that has become increasingly contentious as global markets seek to offset emissions.
As the protest continued, COP30 president André Corrêa do Lago, a seasoned Brazilian diplomat, emerged to meet with the group. In a moment that quickly became symbolic, he cradled a protester’s baby while engaging in a lengthy discussion with the demonstrators. The dialogue was respectful, and after nearly an hour and a half, the protesters and do Lago moved away from the entrance together, allowing the venue to reopen at precisely 9:37 a.m.
While the disruption caused some logistical headaches, many saw it as a necessary act. Paolo Destilo, representing the environmental group Debt for Climate, joined the secondary human chain and remarked, “This is worth any delays to the conference. If this is really to be Indigenous peoples’ COP, like officials keep saying, these types of demonstrations should be welcomed at COP30.”
The protest underscored a broader frustration with global climate summits. Harjeet Singh, a veteran activist against fossil fuels, told The Associated Press, “We should look at this as a message and signal from Indigenous people, who have not seen any progress over the past 33 years of COP, that all these conversations have not led to actions. They are the custodians of biodiversity and climate and clearly, they are not satisfied with how this process is doing.”
Conference organizers, for their part, emphasized inclusivity. COP30 CEO Ana Toni stated at a news conference that this year’s event in Belém is the most inclusive yet for Indigenous peoples, with more than 900 Indigenous participants registered—a dramatic increase from just 30 at previous conferences and 300 at last year’s event in Baku, Azerbaijan. “We are listening to their voices,” Toni said. “The reason for having a COP in the Amazon is for us to listen to the very people that are the most vulnerable.” She described the protests as “legitimate” and confirmed that the government is listening, noting that demonstrators had been directed to meet with key ministers, including the Minister of Indigenous Peoples and the Minister of Environment and Climate Change.
For Indigenous youth, the conference provided a rare platform to amplify their concerns. Amanda Pankará, from the Pankará people in Pernambuco, told UN News, “We would have much more to contribute if more Indigenous people were participating in these discussions. These demands are valid. We are claiming the right to land, the right to life… Being here today, representing those who haven't had the opportunity to be here, reinforces our presence and responsibility. We are the ones who create this protective barrier, so we want to be heard.” Chilean Indigenous youth Emiliano Medina, from the Mapuche people, echoed this sentiment, reaffirming Indigenous commitment to combating the climate crisis and highlighting that similar demonstrations have been taking place worldwide.
The sense of urgency was heightened by dire scientific warnings. The two-week conference began with countries offering updated national plans to fight climate change, but scientists cautioned that the world is likely to exceed the 2015 Paris Agreement’s target of limiting global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit) above pre-industrial levels—a threshold widely seen as critical to preventing catastrophic impacts.
Beyond Brazil, Indigenous leaders from the Ecuadorian Amazon used a COP30 side event to warn that oil drilling, mining, and agribusiness expansion are pushing the rainforest toward an irreversible tipping point. The session, hosted by Amazon Watch and Indigenous leaders from Kichwa and other nations, focused on the rollback of environmental and Indigenous protections, fossil-fuel contamination along the Napo and Amazon rivers, and demands for direct climate finance for Indigenous communities. Leonardo Cerda, a Kichwa leader from Napo, recounted, “It is very important for us that the rights of Indigenous peoples are recognized at the COP30 negotiating tables, because many times decisions made here directly affect our territory. During our journey along the Napo and Amazon rivers, we were able to see how the fossil fuel industry has threatened an ecosystem as fragile as the Amazon and the peoples who live in it.”
As the conference moves forward, further demonstrations are expected. COP30’s location in the heart of the Amazon was intended to ensure Indigenous voices would not be sidelined, and, as Ana Toni put it, “The purpose of holding a conference in the Amazon is precisely to listen to these demands.” Whether or not world leaders will heed the call remains to be seen, but for now, the message from Belém is unmistakable: those who have protected the rainforest for generations are demanding a seat at the table—and they are not backing down.
