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Sugathapala senarath Yapa: The one who went away

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By Uditha Devapriya
Archive images courtesy of Gordon de Silva

In 2016 Torana Video Movies released Hanthane Kathawa. One of the last Sinhala films to depict university students in a romantic light, Hanthane Kathawa (1969) marked the debut of the man who became the Sinhala cinema’s most popular star, Vijaya Kumaratunga. It was also the last in a series of films which revolved around the theme of unrequited love, the others including Dahasak Sithuvili, Romeo Juliet Kathawak, Bakmaha Deege, and arguably the best of them all, Golu Hadawatha. Though classical in their conception, these works are important, in that they heralded both the end of an era in the Sinhalese cinema and marked the entry of those who would play a major role in the new cinema.

Probably no other film epitomised this shift than did Hanthane Kathawa. Kumaratunga would, of course, figure prominently in the new Sinhala cinema. Also making their debuts alongside him were the likes of Amarasiri Kalansooriya and Daya Tennakoon. Tennakoon and Dharmasena Pathiraja, then studying at the Peradeniya University, where the story is set, made a significant contribution to the mood and the tenor of the film. Though very few critics have noted this aspect to the film, Pathiraja’s repertoire of actors – who he would use again and again – included those who made their entry in Hanthane Kathawa. In that regard, the latter marked an interregnum between two historical eras.

On its own, Hanthane Kathawa stands out rather well. The acting is convincing – perhaps because many of the cast members were real-life university students – and the music, by Premasiri Khemadasa, who for the first and last time in his career worked with Mahagama Sekara, figures in among the best he composed for any film. It marked the last time Tony Ranasinghe played the role of a sympathetic everyman: practically every role he got in the 1970s were as hardened, cynical protagonists or antagonists. It also signalled the return of Swarna Mallawarachchi, who would soon leave Sri Lanka. As for the story, it is captivating, if not simple, revolving around a theme one can identify with at once. For me, it is one of the few Sinhala films that remain as fresh today as it was at the time of its release.

More than anything, the film reveals the eclecticism of its director. There are references to other films and works of art which one can easily miss. Its theme – a contest between two completely different teenagers over a woman – borrows from two somewhat interrelated stories: the bandit’s version of events in Kurosawa’s Rashomon, and the last few sequences in Sarachchandra’s Maname. To this one can add another reference: Roman Polanski’s Knife in the Water. Neither Rashomon nor Knife in the Water was playing at mainstream halls in Sri Lanka at the time; these were art-house works, screened at places like the British Council and the American Center. That the director had absorbed these influences obviously tells us that he was an avid cinephile eager to come up with a different work of art.

And yet, very little has been written about the director, Sugathapala Senarath Yapa. This may be because Yapa never directed a feature film again. He had his reasons for not doing so. The critical fraternity, long wooed over by what directors like Lester James Peries were doing in the Sinhala cinema, were beginning to turn and rebel against them. Like the Cahiers du Cinema critics in France, they were not disposed towards directors they associated with classical films: what they called “le cinéma de papa”, or “daddy’s cinema.” At the screening of Dharmasena Pathiraja’s Ahas Gawwa, a group of critics distributed pamphlets directed at, and against, Peries: following their French counterparts, they termed the latter’s conception of the cinema “Apochchige Cinemawa.” Yapa became one of their targets.

Sugathapala Senarath Yapa was born in Akuressa in 1935. Both his parents died when he was young. He would be brought up by his grandmother, a “generous woman” as he remembered her for me. His childhood, he recalled, had been rather boisterous, amounting to a series of misadventures which frequently landed him in trouble. These misadventures reached their peak when together with a friend of his called Abeywickrama, Yapa spread a rumour around his first school, Rakvana Maha Vidyalaya, that the buns served to children during the interval contained worms. The outcry this provoked and the discovery of the two culprits who had spread the rumour led to Senarath Yapa being expelled. Out of one school, he managed to get into another, Pelmadulla Central College some miles away.

Pelmadulla Central had been headed by a stern but well-meaning principal, A. V. Gunapala. A member of the Hela Havula, Gunapala had just one message for young Yapa: stick to your studies, don’t indulge in antics. Heeding Gunapala’s message, Yapa managed to get through his SSC Preparatory Exams. However, the school he had applied for to do his SSC Exams, St Anthony’s College, rejected him. The Rector at St Anthony’s, “one Father Moses”, told him to wait for another year. “I didn’t want to wait that long. I would have wasted time getting into all kinds of mischief and into fights with boys my age.” Having abandoned his hopes for a career in the civil service, Yapa ultimately decided to let go of his studies.

At the time cinema halls were limited to the cities. Villages like Akuressa and Rakvana, on the other hand, had to do with “moving theatres”, which were essentially makeshift camps. These would screen the popular attractions of the day: Bollywood romances and Hollywood thrillers. Yapa made his way to these theatres: “I got to watch the entire Zorro series there.” His first job was as a movie title painter for one of the many touring theatres. Having seen his work, the owner of the hall, the MP Reggie Perera, asked him to pay visit. When he met Yapa, Perera offered him a better job: “as a kind of advertiser for the company.” This would be followed by another more lucrative job: as a counter clerk at a touring cinema owned by a distant cousin, “the comedian L. M. Perera.” It was while at this job that Senarath Yapa did his clerical exams, passed them, and began work at the Labour Department.

Offering a more stable and lucrative career, the Labour Department encouraged Yapa to get more fully and actively involved in the arts, starting off with a series of radio drama that included a translation of Tagore’s Gitanjali. His stint at the radio service a few years later got him to meet Mahagama Sekara. The radio service also helped Yapa land a role in a newly established drama troupe. Headed by G. D. L. Perera, the troupe was called Kala Pela. The role was not in a play as Yapa had expected, but in a film: Perera’s debut, the searing and beautifully poignant Sama, which also marked the debuts of Denawaka Hamine and Leonie Kothalawala. Sama would win a number of awards, locally and internationally.

Senarath Yapa wound up as the Secretary and Treasurer of Kala Pela. Later he left the group, determined to carve his own path. In his first few years at the Labour Department, he had made it a habit to visit the British Council, to watch films and read books about the cinema, to brush up his knowledge of Western culture. “I wanted to get away from what I had been watching and savouring at the touring theatres.” He could not have picked on a better time and era to transition from the one to the other: the 1950s, when he was at the prime of his youth, was when exciting new strides were being made in the Japanese, Indian, and even Sri Lankan cinema, with Satyajit Ray and Akira Kurosawa taking the lead.

Recalling the films he saw and the books he read, Yapa had this to tell me”

“What I understood about the cinema, from what I watched and came across back then, was that art is not always about action. A good film is built not just on what characters say and do, but what they hide from other characters. Two films that inspired me in this regard were Vittoria de Sica’s Bicycle Thieves and Kurosawa’s Rashomon. Bicycle Thieves is about a father who can’t bear to tell his son that he is trying to steal a bicycle for him. Rashomon is about a group of people who have got involved with a murder, who can’t come out and tell us what really happened. Not even the dead Samurai can speak the truth.”

Interview with Sugathapala Senarath Yapa, December 21, 2015

Good art, in other words, revealed as much as it concealed, and in the movies and plays he saw, the characters, even the heroes, hid their intentions from one another. This aspect surfaced more sharply in the 1960s, with the arrival of a new generation of directors in the West, particularly in Europe. Two films in particular epitomised this trend: Antonioni’s Blow-Up and Roman Polanski’s Knife in the Water. Having seen Knife in the Water, Sugathapala Senarath Yapa finally decided to make his own film. In it he combined three stories: not just Polanski’s and Kurosawa’s films, but also Sarachchandra’s Maname.

Because the story revolved around a woman whose intentions and desires are never clear, Yapa asked the lead actress, Swarna Mallawarachchi, “to watch My Fair Lady and model herself on Audrey Hepburn’s performance.” There is a point in the story, in fact, where the male characters jokily taunt Mallawarchchi for being a “fair lady.” What this showed clearly was a director who wanted everything to be pitch-perfect, a director who wanted his work to reflect his own love for the cinema. In this Yapa differed very little from Lester James and Sumitra Peries, except probably in the circumstances from which he hailed: unlike the latter, he came from an altogether less affluent and privileged background.

Perhaps, it was these circumstances that, tragically, prevented him from moving into what could have been a promising career. “I was soon among the directors attacked by critics who felt their conception of the cinema was the only one that mattered.” While the two Perieses could bear the brunt of these attacks, Yapa found himself increasingly side-lined and ostracised, to a point where he had to limit himself to the Government Film Unit. At the GFU, he revealed his talents once again: his debt documentary (really a docudrama), Minisa saha Kaputa, won the Silver Peacock at the New Delhi Film Festival. Like Peter Bogdanovich and William Friedkin, however, Senarath Yapa was pushed to making lesser works: his next two films, Pembara Madu and the much better Induta Mal Mitak, are deeply commercialist in their outlook. At the GFU, meanwhile, he directed 28 documentaries.

Despite his less than memorable encounter with radical left-wing film critics and directors, Yapa holds those who demand a greater and superior conception of the cinema in high regard. “Today, films have become an extension of fantasies, of dreams,” he told me, as we wrapped up our interview. This may seem like an unfair judgement – aren’t all films, at the end of the day, extensions of dreams? – yet viewed from a certain angle, there is really no denying that the commercial cinema, while sustaining the industry, has fallen far short of the production and aesthetic values which epitomise it in countries like India. I sense some bitterness in Yapa’s recollections of the past, but this is only to be expected: no one who has seen Hanthane Kathawa can fail to be entranced by its romantic sweep. This is a movie that should have heralded a brilliant career. That it did not is utterly saddening.

The writer is an international relations analyst, researcher, and columnist who can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com



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The scope of Sri Lanka’s commitments to accountability

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Vijitha Herath at the UNHRC

At the 60th Session of the UNHRC held in September 2025, Foreign Minister of Sri Lanka Vijitha Herath stated: “We sincerely believe that external action will only serve to create divisions, thereby jeopardising the genuine and tangible national processes that have already been set in motion”. In keeping with that concept “The Government is committed to advance accountability through credible domestic processes by establishing “an independent public prosecutor’s office”.

In fact, establishing such an office may involve amendments to existing Constitutional and Legal provisions depending on what specific acts have been violated by individuals or by groups. For instance, the statement by the Foreign Minister states: “We are also committed to ensuring that any person alleged to have committed any unlawful act is investigated, prosecuted and brought before courts through an independent national process, irrespective of their social status, background or any other ground”. This commitment is too vague in scope. On the other hand, if accountability is limited to “unlawful acts” associated with Sri Lanka’s Armed Conflict, the scope of amendments needed would be more specific. The material presented below is limited to “unlawful acts” relating to the Armed Conflict.

UNLAWFUL ACTS relating to ARMED CONFLICT

With the Security Forces representing the Government of Sri Lanka and the LTTE representing the Tamil Community were engaged in an Armed Conflict as citizens of Sri Lanka, each party to the Conflict should be held accountable by the same laws.

The only International Laws ratified by Sri Lanka are the 4 Geneva Conventions. Although these 4 Conventions were ratified in October 1959, they were incorporated into Domestic Law ONLY in 2006 by Act No. 4 of 2006. However, the provisions of this Act have NOT been in operation, since no Minister has signed it as required by the Act, that states: “1. (1) This Act may be cited as the Geneva Conventions Act, No. 4 of 2006 and shall come into operation on such date as the Minister may by Order published in the Gazette appoint (hereinafter referred to as the “appointed date”).

(2) Different dates may be appointed for the different Parts of the Act to come into operation”. Therefore, provisions of Act No. 4 of 2006 are not applicable to address accountability related issues.

The only other International Law incorporated into Domestic Law is Act No. 56 of 2007 relating to provisions in the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. Article 3 (1) states: “No person shall propagate war or advocate national, racial or religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility or violence”. This provision by itself justifies the LTTE to be held accountable for waging war against the State of Sri Lanka.

Furthermore, Sri Lanka has not ratified any other International Law including Protocols I and II Additional to the 4 Geneva Conventions. Therefore, no Domestic Law relating to Protocol II Additional to the 4 Geneva Convention exists.

Consequently, the scope of any accountability exercise should be limited to the provisions of Sri Lanka’s Penal Code and other laws such as the Army, Navy and Air Force Acts. Since the Armed Conflict initiated by the LTTE was an “OFFENCE AGAINST THE STATE according to CHAPTER VI of the Penal Code to create the State of Tamil Eelam, accountability for “unlawful acts” committed by the LTTE or the Security Forces have to be on the basis of the Penal Code.

Therefore, it is imperative that the “independent public prosecutor’s Office the Government is committed to set up is guided by the Legal provisions of Sri Lanka’s Penal Code when it undertakes the accountability exercise.

The Penal Code has no provision for War Crimes, Crimes against Humanity or Command Responsibility. However, although such provisions exist in Internationally recognized instruments, they are not relevant to accountability issues relating to parties to Sri Lanka’s Armed Conflict since International Laws do not automatically become Domestic Laws because Sri Lanka’s Dual Legal System requires such laws to be expressly incorporated into Domestic Law through Legislation for one to be enforceable in local Courts as in the case of Act No. 4 of 2006 and Act No. 56 of 20007.

CHALLENGES to the ACCOUNTABILITY EXERCISE

The Government expressed its commitment to “ensuring that any person alleged to have committed any unlawful act is investigated, prosecuted and brought before courts through an independent national process, irrespective of their social status, background or any other ground”. Despite such commitments, the stark reality is that individual commanders or former leaders of the LTTE who strategized, planned and implemented operations to carry out war against the State of Sri Lanka cannot be brought before a court of law because, either they claim not to exist or cannot be located.

This however, is not the case with the circumstances of the Security Forces that were associated with the conflict. A significant number of them along with their high ranking military officers and political leaders survived. Some of them have already been sanctioned on account of alleged war crimes based on alleged existing evidence, despite such provisions not being part of the Penal Code. Even if prosecuted by a Court of Law for violations committed under the Penal Code, their numbers would be considerably more, by virtue of the simple fact that they exist and furthermore can be located and produced before a Court of Law. Such an outcome would be inevitable if the government proceeds with its plan to investigate and prosecute perpetrators of crimes in the name of Justice for the victims of such crimes. This would be the outcome of the Retributive Process the Government is committed to pursue – a process that would seriously polarize the communities thus, jeopardizing “the genuine and tangible national processes that have already been set in motion” by the Government as the justification for a Domestic Process to address accountability.

Retribution in the name of justice ignores the fact that it is directed at none other than those who gave their full measure of devotion to protect the State and make the country whole, thereby ensuring security to millions who endured insecurity of such a degree that families would not travel together and parents would anxiously await the return of children from school because of possible terror attacks. Therefore, whether it is an external or domestic mechanism, any form of accountability exercise would be a blowback to reconciliation.

CONCLUSION

Two conclusions could be reached from the material presented above. The first is that the Legal Framework for an accountability exercise in Sri Lanka should be Sri Lanka’s Penal Code. The second is that International Laws or other Instruments relating to Armed Conflicts, whether ratified or not, are NOT applicable to Sri Lanka’s accountability exercise if such Laws have not been incorporated into Domestic Law. The reason being, Sri Lanka’s Dual Legal System prevents such recognition.

The statement by the Foreign Minister at the 60th Session of the UNHRC states: “As President Dissanayaka has reiterated, we are firmly and genuinely committed to working towards a country that respects and celebrates the diversity of its people with no division or discrimination, and we are resolved not to leave room for a resurgence of racism or extremism”.

Continuing, the statement states: “We are also committed to ensuring that any person alleged to have committed any unlawful act is investigated, prosecuted and brought before courts through an independent national process, irrespective of their social status, background or any other ground”. If such a commitment applies to those who participated in Sri Lanka’s Armed Conflict, the consequences of accountability would contradict the intentions stated by the President cited above, namely, to creating a nation that “respects and celebrates diversity of its people etc. etc. because LTTE leadership and the High Command cannot be brought before a Court of Law since they do not exist and/or be located, while the possibility exists for members of the Security Forces to be investigated and prosecuted simply because they exist and can be located to be produced before a Court of Law. Since this disparity is seriously discriminatory, the accountability exercise proposed by the Government would create the environment to polarise communities further – a prospect that contradicts the President’s stated intentions of a people with “no division or discrimination”,

Therefore, the government should revisit its stand on what constitutes Justice. Is it to be Retributive or Restorative? If it is to Investigate and Prosecute with an Independent Public Prosecutor, it is NOT Justice for the reasons cited above. On the other hand, Restorative Justice is not new to Sri Lanka, considering that out of “more than eleven thousand LTTE cadres who surrendered or were detained… 595 former LTTE child soldiers were rehabilitated … and reunited with their families … while a further 6130 were rehabilitated by 2011” (p.82, Ministry of Defence).

With such a history, the government should seriously explore all possibilities of Restorative Justice, starting with a blanket Amnesty for ALL associated with the Insurrections and the Armed Conflict and extending it beyond to restore the livelihood and the wellbeing of the survivors in ALL communities.

by Neville Ladduwahetty ✍️

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A scientific perspective: Why are elephant drives ineffective in mitigating human–elephant conflict?

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An elephant drive

Recently, an elephant drive was launched in the Hambantota District with the aim of mitigating the human–elephant conflict (HEC). However, the real question is whether HEC can truly be mitigated through elephant drives. Decades of scientific research in Sri Lanka have consistently shown that such drives are not only ineffective but also waste public funds and severely disrupt elephant social structures.

Some authorities assert that they are conducting this particular drive using a “scientific approach” and considering the welfare of both elephants and humans. Nevertheless, this claim is misleading. There is no scientific evidence to support the idea that elephant drives successfully mitigate HEC or promote the welfare of either elephants or people.

Science is built on observation, experimentation, and evidence-based conclusions—and all existing research using these methods has proven that elephant drives simply are not a solution for HEC mitigation.

What are elephant drives?

During the colonial period, “game drives” were organised to drive wild animals toward hunters for sport. Similarly, drives were used to herd elephants into kraals—large enclosures built for capturing them.

In modern times, elephant drives are carried out to relocate herds from one area to another in the belief that this may help reduce the intensity of HEC. These operations involve large groups of people chasing elephants by shouting and setting off firecrackers or thunder flashes, causing the frightened animals to flee. This process continues for days, subjecting the elephants to extreme stress. Once the animals are herded into the designated area, an electric fence is typically erected to confine them.

Although elephant drives have been conducted in Sri Lanka since the 1970s, including the most recent in 2025, none have succeeded in resolving HEC. A review of drives carried out between 1974 and 1993 showed that in eight out of nine cases, some or all of the relocated elephants eventually returned to their original habitats. In some areas, residents even reported that HEC worsened after such operations. This is likely because elephants, being highly intelligent and capable of long-term memory, remember the trauma of being driven away—making them more aggressive when they return.

In elephant societies, females and their young typically form cohesive herds, while adult males lead solitary lives. It is these lone males—particularly the aggressive individuals—that are responsible for the majority of HEC, including nearly all human fatalities, injuries, and property damage. They also account for most crop raids, often breaching even well-guarded fields. Unfortunately, such problem-causing males are notoriously resistant to removal through elephant drives and tend to remain in the conflict zones. Meanwhile, the elephants that are successfully driven out and confined to protected areas are predominantly females and juveniles—individuals who pose minimal threat to human communities.

The Centre for Conservation and Research (CCR) had recognised three types of elephant drives known as large, medium and small scale. Large-scale elephant drives cover vast areas, often hundreds of square kilometres, and can last from several months to over a year. Their goal is to completely remove elephants from their home ranges. Medium-scale drives, lasting a few days to weeks, move elephants only a few kilometres—usually within their existing ranges—and sometimes aim to confine them to protected areas. In contrast, small-scale drives are short-term responses to elephants entering villages or farmlands. These are typically carried out by locals or, if necessary, the Department of Wildlife Conservation (DWC). Such actions are better described as “elephant chasing”, since they differ in purpose and scale from larger, organised drives despite using similar methods.

Consequences of elephant drives

According to science-based strategy, the “National Action Plan for the Mitigation of Human-Elephant Conflict” mentions that large-scale elephant drives, which forcibly move herds from their home ranges into protected areas, often result in starvation and death, making it a threat to elephant conservation. For development projects in elephant habitats, a phased land-clearing approach combined with progressively expanded electric fencing is recommended to reduce both habitat loss and conflict, avoiding the failures and costs of elephant drives.

Medium-scale drives merely displace elephants within their home ranges and fail to offer lasting relief from HEC. These operations often heighten elephant aggression and may trap herds inside protected areas where limited resources can lead to starvation. Such drives are typically carried out due to public or political pressure, despite their counterproductive outcomes.

Small-scale “elephant chasing” remains a short-term necessity until more effective measures are introduced. However, it should be restricted to urgent cases and conducted with minimal aggression to avoid worsening conflict. To manage this better, systematic data collection on elephant chasing—such as frequency, effectiveness, and outcomes—is essential to assess its true impact on HEC mitigation and elephant conservation.

Examples highlighting the repercussions of elephant drives

For many years, elephant herds in the Yala region used the forested and chena farming areas north of the park during the dry season. Farmers cultivated their crops during the rainy season and left afterward, allowing elephants to feed on the leftover vegetation. This system created a natural balance between people and elephants, with both sharing the land at different times of the year.

Around 2000–2001, however, the DWC did an elephant drive and constructed an electric fence to prevent elephants from leaving the park and entering nearby agricultural lands. Once the fence was fully closed, elephants became trapped inside Yala National Park, which mostly consists of mature forest that provides limited food during the dry months. As a result of this confinement, many young elephants and several females within most herds succumbed to starvation. The fence, meant to protect farmlands, ended up harming the elephants that rarely raided crops. Most raiding males remain outside the fence in Forest Department lands and the Nimalawa Sanctuary, while others repeatedly break the fence—leaving at night to raid crops and returning to the park by morning.

Another classic example is the 2006 Lunugamwehera elephant drive, which confined the elephants to a small patch of forest. This overcrowding, coupled with the lack of food and water, ultimately led many of them to die of starvation.

These stories highlight how well-intentioned but poorly planned conservation actions, such as elephant drives, confining elephants to limited habitats, can have devastating effects—threatening both humans and elephants.

What could be done instead to mitigate HEC?

It is worth noting that in 2020, a committee of wildlife experts developed a National Action Plan for mitigating HEC. The strategies outlined in this plan were selected based on proven effectiveness, practical feasibility across different regions and timeframes, and overall cost efficiency. In the pilot project areas, villagers reported that they used to experience frequent HEC before the project was implemented, but that the problem largely disappeared afterward. Public consultations and discussions with relevant government agencies were also held, and their input was incorporated where appropriate. If this plan is properly implemented, it holds strong potential to significantly reduce HEC in the country.

by Tharindu Muthukumarana ✍️
tharinduele@gmail.com
(Author of the award-winning book “The Life of Last Proboscideans: Elephants”)

 

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In the Heart of the Amazon: COP 30 and the fate of the Planet

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The Amazon

My recent visit to Brazil coincided partly with the Conference of the Parties (COP) 30, the 30th United Nations Climate Conference in Belém. Although I did not attend COP 30, I was very fortunate to visit the Amazon. It was both awe-inspiring and humbling to experience —even briefly—the mystery and stillness of nature, and the ebb and flow of life in the Amazon: the largest tropical rainforest in the world, sustained by the ever-flowing Amazon River, the largest and widest river on Earth.

The magnificent forest, the river, and its tributaries, such as the black-water Rio Negro, teem with countless interdependent species. The great Samaúma—the “tree of life,” or giant kapok tree—stands tall above innumerable other trees, vines, and plants. Many trees provide homes for birds and other animals that build their nests high among the branches or near the roots. Sloths do not build nests; instead, they spend their entire lives in the forest canopy, hanging upside down from branches while resting or sleeping.

In contrast, capuchin and squirrel monkeys leap from tree to tree in search of food, while birds—from the tiniest short-tailed pygmy tyrant to the colorful red-crested, green, and black Amazon kingfishers—flit from branch to branch, each awaiting its own prey. As night falls, the beautiful white owl-like great potoo emerges and sits patiently, seemingly forever, waiting for its turn to hunt.

In the river, silvery flying fish—sometimes in droves—leap from the water to catch insects, while gray and pink dolphins bob up and down, chasing fish or simply playing. Along the banks, proud egrets and fierce spectacled and black caimans lie in wait for their prey. Overhead, flocks of birds, including parakeets, fill the sky with song as vultures descend to feed on the remains of fallen animals below.

Humans have also lived in the Amazon for tens of thousands of years, in close symbiosis with other species, hunting in the forest and fishing in the river for their survival. Petroglyphs—carvings of human and animal figures, along with abstract shapes etched into rocks along the Amazon River—speak of their deep respect for nature and their ways of communicating with one another. Even today, many of the indigenous communities who inhabit the Amazon remain devoted to protecting Mother Earth, upholding their eco-centric values and traditional ways of life.

There are also the river people (ribeirinhos), many of mixed indigenous and Portuguese descent, living along the Amazon River—often in floating homes or houses built on stilts. Their livelihoods and cultures are deeply intertwined with the river and forest, making the protection of the Amazon essential to their survival.

The Amazon lost an estimated 54.2 million hectares of forest—over 9% of its total area—between 2001 and 2020, an expanse roughly the size of France. The Brazilian Amazon, which makes up 62% of the rainforest’s territory, was the most affected, followed by Bolivia, Peru, and Colombia. Along with deforestation, the Amazon is estimated to lose 4,000 to 6,000 plant and animal species each year.

COP 30

At the opening of the COP 30 Conference in Belém, Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva, the President of Brazil pointed out that concrete climate action is possible and that deforestation in the Amazon has been halved just in the past two years. He declared that the “era of fine speeches and good intentions is over” and that Brazil’s COP 30 will be a ‘COP of Truth and Action’, “COPs cannot be mere showcases of good ideas or annual gatherings for negotiators. They must be moments of contact with reality and of effective action to tackle climate change.”

President da Silva also emphasised that Brazil is a global leader in biofuel production—renewable energy derived from organic materials such as plants, algae, and waste—stressing that “a growth model based on fossil fuels cannot last.” Indeed, at COP 30, the future of the world’s tropical forests, vital ecosystems, and the shared climate of humanity and other species is at stake.

“Truth and Action”

Notwithstanding President da Silva’s optimistic pronouncements at Belém, troubling developments continue on the climate front in Brazil and around the world. In preparation for COP 30, the Brazilian government—along with India, Italy, and Japan—launched an ambitious initiative in October 2025: the “Belém 4x” pledge, which aims to quadruple global sustainable fuel use by 2035. This goal is projected to more than double current biofuel consumption. However, environmentalists have expressed concern that a massive expansion of biofuel production, if undertaken without strong safeguards, could accelerate deforestation, degrade land and water resources, harm ecosystems, and threaten food security—particularly as crops such as soy, sugarcane, and palm oil compete for land between energy and food production.

Just days before COP30, the Brazilian government granted the state-run oil company Petrobras a license to drill for oil near the mouth of the Amazon River. The government, including Minister for the Environment Marina da Silva, has defended the move, claiming that the project would help finance Brazil’s energy transition and help achieve its economic development goals.

Environmentalists have criticized the decision, accusing the government of promoting fossil fuel expansion and worsening global warming. They warn that drilling off the coast of the world’s largest tropical rainforest—a crucial carbon sink—poses a serious threat to biodiversity and indigenous communities in the Amazon region.

According to environmental activists, in the Amazon, “31 million hectares of Indigenous Peoples’ territories are already overlapped by oil and gas blocks, with an additional 9.8 million hectares threatened by mining concessions.”

Moreover, a controversial four-lane highway, Avenida Liberdade, built in Belém in preparation for the COP30 climate summit, is being defended by the Brazilian government as necessary infrastructure for the city’s growing population. Environmentalists and some locals are alarmed that clearing more than 100 hectares of protected Amazon Rainforest to build the road will accelerate deforestation, harm wildlife, and undermine the climate goals of the COP summit.

The onus of protecting the Amazon Rainforest—often called “the lungs of the planet”— cannot rest on Brazil alone; it is a shared responsibility of all humanity. Numerous studies show that the world can thrive without fossil and biofuels by adopting alternative renewable energy sources such as solar, wind, and hydroelectric power.

The global order, led by the United States and other Western nations, bears primary responsibility for the climate and environmental crises, as well as for deepening global inequality. Emerging powers from the Global South—particularly the BRICS nations, including Brazil—are now called to move beyond rhetoric and take concrete action. As President Lula da Silva himself has stated, COP 30 presents a critical opportunity to move decisively in that direction.

Negotiators and policymakers at COP 30 must take firm, principled moral action—resisting pressure from the fossil fuel lobby and prioritizing the interests of the planet and its people over short-term, profit-driven growth.

Asoka Bandarage is the author of Women, Population and Global Crisis: A Politico-Economic Analysis (Zed Books, 1997), Sustainability and Well-Being: The Middle Path to Environment, Society and the Economy (Palgrave MacMillan, 2013) and numerous other publications on global political economy and the environment including “The Climate Emergency And Urgency of System Change” (2023) and ‘Existential Crisis, Mindfulness and the Middle Path to Social Action’ (2025). She serves on the Steering Committee of the Interfaith Moral Action on Climate.

by Dr. Asoka Bandarage ✍️

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