Escazú Explained

Latin America’s Treaty for Environmental Defenders at a Crossroads

Belén Fernández Milmanda, Associate Professor, Trinity College

Giancarlo Madera, undergraduate student and research assistant, American University

Mariana Muñoz Restrepo, undergraduate student and research assistant, Trinity College

Andrea Vilán, Assistant Professor, American University

Photo: ECLAC / United Nations via the official Escazú Agreement COP 4 Portal.

While environmental and land defenders are under attack around the world, nowhere is this danger more palpable than in Latin America, which accounted for 85 percent of deadly attacks in 2025.[1] Four Latin American countries – Colombia, Brazil, Mexico, and Honduras – account for 58 percent of all murders of environmental activists around the world since record keeping began.[2]

In response to this dire situation, in 2018 the Latin American and Caribbean (LAC) countries established the Escazú Agreement, the first legally binding treaty to include provisions on the rights of environmental defenders. In this post, we explore its impact so far and what can be expected going forward.

What is the Escazú Agreement?

The Escazú Agreement is a landmark treaty that includes specific measures to protect environmental defenders. It also enshrines the rights of communities and individuals to access environmental information, participate in environmental decision-making, and access the judicial system when their rights have been violated, thus facilitating legal mobilization against environmental degradation. Specifically, Escazú instructs members to protect the physical integrity and freedom of expression of environmental and land activists (Article 9) and to guarantee public access to environmental information (Article 5). Moreover, it enshrines the rights of communities and individuals to participate in environmental decision-making (Article 7) and access justice in environmental matters (Article 8).

The Agreement was negotiated over six years, including three years of preparatory meetings and three of formal treaty drafting. The text was written over the course of nine committee meetings held virtually and in person and ultimately adopted in Escazú, Costa Rica, in 2018. After receiving the eleventh ratification, it entered into force in 2021.

Commitment to Escazú So far

While most countries participated in the negotiations of Escazú, to date commitment to its standards has been uneven. So far, only 19 countries out of 33 countries in Latin America and the Caribbean (LAC) have ratified or acceded to the treaty. In particular, it is worrisome that some of the countries with the highest deforestation rates in the world, such as Brazil or Paraguay, as well as some of the most biodiverse ones, like Peru, Costa Rica and Guatemala, have signed the treaty but failed to ratify it.[3]

Map of Escazú Agreement status across Latin America and the Caribbean (2018).
Source: Wikimedia Commons.

Some countries like Argentina or Mexico, ratified the agreement quickly. Strong opposition to the agreement, coming in particular from extractivist industries, has delayed or obstructed commitment in countries such as Brazil, Chile, Colombia, and Peru. In some cases, social mobilization in support of the agreement has been key to overcoming the reticence of business interests. Colombia – a country that we have studied in-depth with support from American University’s Public Affairs and Policy Lab – only committed to the agreement after a mass mobilization known as the Paro Nacional pressured then President Duque to sign and subsequently set in motion a political process that President Petro finished while in office in 2022.[4]

In the last few years, several Caribbean countries joined the agreement, including Dominica, the Bahamas, and Trinidad and Tobago. In fact, the fourth conference of state parties (COP4) – a multi-day event including state and elected representatives from the public – was held in Nassau in April of 2026. The region is one of the most vulnerable to climate change in the world, so their inclusion is important. However, their inclusion also introduces several complexities, since many state parties are not Spanish-speaking and do not follow civil law.

Ratification is only one of the first steps, and a growing group of countries are now working on implementation. Many countries have developed a national roadmap (hoja de ruta) for putting the treaty into practice, with support from the UN Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean (ECLAC). In 2023, Argentina and Ecuador produced the earliest roadmaps; Uruguay and Chile followed in 2024, Panama in 2025 and Belize and Colombia in 2026.[5]

What Lies Ahead

At the COP4 held in 2026, state parties made several key decisions,[6] including creating an official working group on “pollutant release and transfer registers,” intended to provide publicly available information systems and verifiable data on pollutants released into natural ecosystems. State delegates also approved the composition of new leadership, choosing Saint Kitts and Nevis to take the Chair, and electing the Bahamas, Belize, Colombia and Panama, as Vice-chairs. The election of the representatives of the public — a novel feature of the agreement designed to encourage participation on environmental matters — will be held in November of 2026.

The next conference of the parties will take place in 2028. In the meantime, states will have to navigate the political shifts in the region, including potential realignments due to presidential elections. The current shift to the right in the region could mean trouble for the agreement, as detractors took office.  In Brazil, a Flávio Bolsonaro administration would almost certainly lower the chances of the country ratifying the agreement – which awaits consideration in the Senate after having cleared the Chamber of Deputies in November of 2025 – to zero. In Argentina, Chile, and Colombia, even if withdrawing the agreement may prove difficult, governments may undermine the agreement by cutting public resources supporting implementation.

However, ratifying the agreement is no panacea for environmental defenders on the ground, as many implementation challenges remain. Ecuador is a case in point. While the country was the first in the world to enshrine the Rights of Nature in its national constitution in 2008 and among the first to ratify Escazú in 2020,[7] violence against environmental defenders remains high. The 2023 assassination of Eduardo Mendúa Vargas, a leader of the Indigenous Nations Confederation (CONAIE) and a key member in the implementation of Escazú who was fighting the state oil company Petroecuador, sent the country into uproar. Environmentalists demanded justice from President Guillermo Lasso, but the case remains open.[8] Presidents Lasso and Noboa have faced criticisms for not implementing Escazú and, more broadly, neglecting the constitutionally enshrined Rights of Nature. In 2025, for example, over 250 domestic and international organizations criticized the government for not implementing Escazú.[9] Still, in 2026 two environmental activists were killed in Santa Elena province, presumably due to their environmental and anti-corruption activism.[10]

Before states meet at the next Conference of the Parties in April 2028, several tests will show how strong the treaty really is. Will Brazil finally join? Will governments hollow it out from within? Will the implementation roadmaps help turn states’ commitments into concrete action? Will the newly elected representatives of the public decisively shape the path forward? The next years will show whether the agreement moves from promise to practice, and whether it can deliver for the people it was meant to protect.


[1] Global Witness. https://globalwitness.org/en/campaigns/land-and-environmental-defenders/collective-power/

[2] Authors’ calculations based on Global Witness,  https://globalwitness.org/en/campaigns/land-and-environmental-defenders/collective-power/

[3] UN Treaty Collection. https://treaties.un.org/pages/viewdetails.aspx?src=treaty&mtdsg_no=xxvii-18&chapter=27&clang=_en

[4] We explore these political dynamics in Fernández Milmanda & Vilan, “Who Protects Environmental Defenders? How Domestic Interest Groups Shape Latin American States’ Commitment to the Escazú Agreement,” presented at the 2026 APSA Annual Meeting. 

[5] See https://observatoriop10.cepal.org/es

[6] CEPAL. https://acuerdodeescazu.cepal.org/cop4/en/news/cop-4-escazu-agreement-approves-key-decisions-accelerating-treatys-implementation-latin-america

[7] Observatory on Principle 10, CEPAL https://observatoriop10.cepal.org/en/treaty/regional-agreement-access-information-public-participation-and-justice-environmental-matters

[8] Vargas assassination https://es.mongabay.com/2023/03/asesinato-de-eduardo-mendua-en-ecuador/

[9] Front line defenders (250 organizations protest) https://www.frontlinedefenders.org/en/statement-report/over-280-ecuadorian-and-international-organizations-speak-out-against

[10] Silva and Pezo assassination https://gk.city/2026/06/12/tres-activistas-hallados-sin-vida-ecuador-siete-meses/

Climate Disaster, Human Displacement, and the Risks of Non-Economic Loss for Latin America and the Caribbean

By Robert Albro

Associate Director, CLALS

April 8, 2025

Migrants use a dam to cross into the US in Texas on Saturday. By Free Malaysia Today

Recent devastating fires in Hawaii, the Pacific Northwest, and Los Angeles, similarly catastrophic floods in Kentucky and severe hurricane damage in North Carolina, have brought home to people in the U.S. that natural disasters made worse by climate change are more frequently displacing a growing number of people around the world. An estimated 220 million people have been displaced by weather-related disasters over the previous decade, which amounts to approximately 60,000 per day. That number is expected to grow.

Over that same period an estimated 7.7 million people in Latin America and the Caribbean have been displaced due to disasters, with climate change an increasing contributor. In recent years the region has been repeatedly devastated by hurricanes, as well as floods and wildfires, all of which have become larger, more frequent, and damaging as a result of climate change.

In 2017 hurricanes Maria and Irma pummeled the Caribbean. Maria wrought long-lasting damage, leaving Puerto Rico without power for almost a year, with an estimated 130,000 people leaving the island in the storm’s aftermath to resettle in Florida and elsewhere. Irma followed soon thereafter, displacing a total of 1.7 million in 15 countries and territories, making it the largest global disaster event that year. In 2019 Dorian, the strongest recorded hurricane ever to hit the Bahamas, left at least 70,000 homeless. In 2024 Beryl tore through large parts of the Caribbean and Yucatan Peninsula, displacing an estimated 200,000 while damaging or destroying 90 percent of homes and buildings.

Massive flooding events are also now more common in Latin America. A result of the El Niño-la Niña oscillation, climate change has made such floods twice as likely. Brazil alone has been the scene of recurring annual flooding. In 2022 torrential rains caused the worst floods on record leading to nearly 700,000 displaced Brazilians. Again in 2024 a period of intense rainfall during April and May produced the worst floods to hit Brazil in over 80 years, displacing over 600,000. Many of these were migrants from other countries living in Brazil.

Wildfires are also becoming an increasingly familiar annual occurrence, particularly in South America. Since the 1970s the number of days per year with conditions of high fire risk have quadrupled in some parts of South America. Over the past decade the average annual number of wildfires has steadily risen, and 2024 saw the highest recorded number of fire hotspots ever in South America. Below-average rainfall in many areas, together with higher temperatures, and prolonged draughts, aggravated by logging and deforestation, are the main contributors.

In recent years Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, and Brazil have been particularly hard hit. In February 2024 an estimated 40,000 people in Chile’s Valparaíso region were displaced by fire, with 14,000 houses damaged or destroyed. So far in 2025 three large-scale fires in Argentina’s Patagonian region displaced more than 200 families. Finally, Brazil is in the midst of its worst draught since at least the 1950s. And Bolivia and Brazil experienced record numbers of fires in 2024, with thousands displaced.

Taken together, millions of people have been displaced in Latin America and the Caribbean in recent years as a result of climate-exacerbated natural disasters. But these numbers only account for rapid-onset destructive weather events. They do not reflect rising human mobility in response to slower-onset and harder to discern climate impacts and forms of environmental degradation, such as glacial melt, desertification, or sea level rise, which are directly negatively affecting agricultural economies throughout the region and forcing people to move. Addressing the consequences of displacement for these less obvious reasons promises to be among the major humanitarian challenges of the rest of this century.

The great majority of people displaced by environmental upheaval are internal and not international migrants. But particularly smaller and comparatively under-resourced states do not typically have the financial means or capacity to provide ongoing humanitarian assistance to victims of climate-related disasters. Regional entities, such as the Caribbean Disaster Emergency Management Agency (CDEMA), provide much needed resources and expertise, if often insufficient and unsustainable over the long term. International aid groups and multilateral agencies also assist with recovery and resilience efforts, but have been slow to organize and channel adequate resources to address the losses and damages incurred as a result of climate catastrophes. Short sighted U.S. disinvestment in humanitarian aid promises to make this situation considerably worse.

In the aftermath of disaster, understandably an initial priority of states is to mount a recovery effort, which includes stabilizing the economy and rebuilding critical material assets and infrastructure, including housing. But, as I’ve explored in depth elsewhere, intangible forms of non-economic loss are, so far, almost entirely neglected. And yet, as climate-induced displacement becomes widespread, we ignore their significance at our own peril.

Non-economic losses encompass family separations, the fragmentation of community, decline of social cohesion, disruption of cultural identities and relationships to heritage, among others. We should understand the difficulties posed by such losses as comparable to characteristic challenges of many post-conflict societies and failed states, where absent families, the erosion of norms, fractured social structures, and unaddressed grievances, often promote alienation and undermine human security as known factors contributing to the growth of gangs, and new forms of violence, criminality, and social instability. In Latin America, Haiti, Venezuela, El Salvador, and more recently, Ecuador, all serve as sobering reminders of what’s at stake. It’s time that we recognize the risks of ignoring the potentially comparable consequences of non-economic losses from increased climate displacement across the region.

Balancing Conservation and Extraction: Governance Challenges of Ecuador’s Yasuní-ITT Initiative

By Edgar Aguilar

Gas flaring at oil drilling site on the Napo river, Amazone, Ecuador (image: flicker)

In 2007, Ecuadorian President Rafael Correa launched the Yasuní-ITT Initiative, named after the Ishpingo, Tambococha, and Tiputini oil fields located within Ecuador’s Yasuní National Park in the Amazon. Correa novel proposal was to leave the approximately 846 million barrels of oil in these fields unexploited in exchange for $3.6 billion in international compensation—half the projected revenue from these reserves. This plan aimed to preserve one of the world’s most biodiverse regions and respect indigenous territories while addressing Ecuador’s economic needs. However, contradictions in Correa’s governance—marked by ambitious social spending funded by extractive industries—highlighted the difficulty of reconciling economic development with long-term environmental commitments.

During Correa’s tenure, Ecuador saw a significant increase in public spending, rising from 20 percent of GDP in 2004 to 43 percent in 2014. This expansion was largely financed through renegotiated oil contracts and an increased state share of oil revenues. Social investments, such as doubling government health expenditures from 2006 to 2016, led to substantial improvements in poverty reduction and infrastructure development.

However, this economic model deepened Ecuador’s reliance on oil, which highlighted the problem of directly linking social progress goals to environmentally destructive practices. While Correa promoted the Yasuní-ITT Initiative internationally, Ecuador simultaneously expanded oil exploration elsewhere, such as in the Amazonian blocks outside Yasuní. Oil concessions in the Amazon in 2007 covered 5 million hectares; 4.3 million of them conceded to foreign companies. In 2011 these numbers doubled with the incorporation of 20 more oil blocks. This inconsistency weakened the credibility of the initiative, making it difficult to secure international funding.

From the outset, the initiative faced skepticism. Donor countries were reluctant to provide funds without enforceable guarantees that future Ecuadorian administrations would uphold the agreement. Additionally, the initiative lacked a clear legal framework to ensure that the pledged conservation funds would lead to sustained economic diversification. Consequently, by 2013 the initiative had secured only $116 million in pledges, with a mere $13 million received, falling significantly short of the $3.6 billion target. The global oil market likely also played a role. In 2014 a sharp decline in oil prices significantly impacted Ecuador’s revenues, further reducing the feasibility of keeping Yasuní’s reserves untapped. With mounting fiscal deficits, Correa’s administration abandoned the initiative in 2013, citing insufficient international contributions.

As Yasuní ITT illustrates, Correa’s government struggled to maintain a coherent environmental policy, oscillating between conservation rhetoric and extractive expansion. This eroded trust among both domestic and international stakeholders. While his administration positioned itself as a defender of indigenous rights and nature, its policies often prioritized oil revenues over sustainability.

The abandonment of the initiative’s conservation goals sparked resistance from environmental and indigenous groups, leading to the formation of YASunidos, a coalition of youth activists, environmentalists, and indigenous advocates. Their activism sought to hold the government accountable, culminating in a push for a national referendum. Although the Ecuadorian government initially obstructed these efforts, the movement continued to pressure policymakers for conservation-oriented reforms.

In an August 2023 national referendum, 60 percent of voters supported the cessation of oil drilling in Yasuní National Park. In response to the vote, the government initiated plans to shut down oil operations in the Ishpingo, Tambococha, and Tiputini fields. The Energy Ministry announced the closure of the Ishpingo B-56 well, with the full decommissioning process expected to take over five years and cost more than $1.3 billion. However, concerns have been raised regarding government compliance, since the court mandated that the oil industry infrastructure be dismantled within a year.

The failure of the initiative led to the expansion of oil drilling in Yasuní National Park. Oil extraction has contributed to deforestation, biodiversity loss, and contamination of water sources, threatening endemic species and fragile ecosystems. Indigenous communities have faced territorial encroachment, social displacement, and health crises linked to pollution.

The Yasuní-ITT project illustrates the complexities of balancing economic development with environmental sustainability. Ecuador’s experience highlights the contradictions within populist environmental policies and discourse—where ambitious social programs depend on extractive revenues, ultimately undermining conservation efforts. While the 2023 referendum offers a renewed opportunity for environmental protection, long-term success will depend on sustained public pressure, policy consistency, and international cooperation.

To increase the likelihood of success 1) governments must credibly align environmental with economic policies. Contradictory approaches undermine long-term policy effectiveness. 2) Future conservation-based economic models should incorporate strong institutional safeguards, cross-administration continuity, and financial incentives for long-term compliance. 3) Reducing dependence on oil requires long-term investment in alternative sectors such as renewable energy, ecotourism, and technology.

Edgar Aguilar is a Researcher at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies and a graduate student in International Economics at American University

Edited by Rob Albro, Associate Director, Research, at the Center for Latin American and Latino Studies

*This post continues an ongoing series, as part of CLALS’s Ecuador Initiative, examining the country’s economic, governance, security, and societal challenges, made possible with generous support from Dr. Maria Donoso Clark, CAS/PhD ’91.