Article
Amidst wider understanding on the need for urgent and decisive action in order to avert the worst of the climate crisis, there is a nascent global and intersectoral approach for the creation of policies to address climate change that goes beyond just the state-led international negotiations, which has become prominent in the last two decades.
Amidst wider understanding on the need for urgent and decisive action in order to avert the worst of the climate crisis, there is a nascent global and intersectoral approach for the creation of policies to address climate change that goes beyond just the state-led international negotiations, which has become prominent in the last two decades. Increasingly, businesses have also started to implement climate action policies in order to assist in collectively meeting the 1.5C temperature goal of the Paris Agreement, with the creation of plans to decarbonize value chains as well as efforts to reforest or partake in carbon storage projects.
While these commendable efforts are being made across sectors, spearheaded by environmental organizations and now increasingly including the private sector, this article argues that unless the approach to address the climate crisis includes steps towards systemic change, then the same forms of violence that have historically been part and parcel of the fossil economy will continue to perpetuate even as we try to create a fossil fuel-free world. These violences include harm against the planet, such as environmental degradation and biodiversity loss, as well as harm against people, particularly historically marginalised groups such as youth, persons with disabilities, and indigenous communities. These harms often manifest as conflict, cultural erasure, economic inequality, and displacement.
Therefore, the reimagining of a climate-just future also requires looking back at the spatio-temporal realities that have accompanied the proliferation of society’s heavy reliance on carbon. These realities are rooted in colonialism, and, by extension, its legacies of industrialisation and capitalism.
A brief note: by colonialism, this article is not referring solely to the 'historical' concept of colonialism or the imposition of the coloniser’s socio-cultural and economic systems over time. Instead, this article expands the definition to include its spatial dimensions: the expansion and control of territory that marginalises and subjugates the colonised society’s indigenous knowledge, identity, and traditions. This dual manipulation of space and time solidifies power structures and inequalities that perpetuate long after the formal process of colonial rule ends.
In this context, it is important to recognise that colonialism is not just a relic of the past. It continues to manifest in new forms, such as internal colonialism – where dominant groups within a nation exert control over marginalized populations – and green colonialism, where environmental initiatives are imposed on indigenous lands without consent, replicating the same patterns of exploitation and domination under the guise of sustainability. This will serve as the jumping off point for this article.
Climate change as a result of colonialism
At the outset, it is critical to note that colonialism is inextricably linked with climate change. The very philosophies of colonialism – those of civilization, Christianity, and commerce – have carried with them legacies that have made climate change the existential threat that it is today. However, these philosophies go beyond religion or specific ideologies; they involve the reshaping and suppression of cultural and spiritual expressions through the global imposition of values driven by industrialization and enlightenment ideals. These Western-centric frameworks in academia, politics, and cultural thought have enabled practices such as resource extraction, environmental degradation, and the advancement of an inequitable development model. Consequently, we now have a fossil fuel-dependent economy that intensifies social inequality, displaces vulnerable populations, erases indigenous knowledge systems, and reinforces global power imbalances, all of which contribute to the worsening climate crisis.
First, colonialism spurred massive resource extraction and environmental degradation. When colonial powers exploited the natural resources of colonised regions, it led to extensive deforestation, mining, and agricultural practices – specifically the creation of monoculture plantations – that disrupted ecosystems. These did not only cause immediate environmental harm but also set the stage for increased greenhouse gas emissions, as forests were cleared in the name of production and carbon-rich ecosystems were destroyed.
Next, the economic systems and industrialization processes established during colonial times laid the groundwork for the modern fossil fuel economy. The setting up by colonial powers of extractive industries required intensive energy inputs and led to intense usage of land and its resources. It also created an economy that became, as a result, heavily reliant on coal, oil, and gas, which persists to the present day.
Third, colonialism created patterns of inequitable development that have left formerly colonised countries particularly vulnerable to climate change. The infrastructures and economies of these countries were structured to serve colonial interests, often at the expense of local resilience, adaptive capacity, and sustainability, and with the view to silence local resistance. For instance, many regions were forced into export-oriented monoculture agriculture, where a single cash crop like cotton, sugar, or coffee was prioritised for the benefit of colonial powers. This not only depleted soil quality and led to environmental degradation but also left local economies vulnerable to fluctuations in global commodity prices and undermined food security. As a result, many of these countries remain economically disadvantaged and lack the resources to effectively adapt to and recover from climate impacts.
Lastly, the legacy of colonialism entrenched social inequalities and displacement, exacerbating the effects of climate change on marginalised communities. Colonial powers imposed social and economic hierarchies that persist today, making marginalised groups more susceptible to climate risks and hazards. For example, in South Africa, the apartheid system – a direct outcome of colonial rule – forced Black South Africans into overcrowded and under-resourced areas, often on marginal lands that were more susceptible to flooding, drought, and other climate-related challenges. This systemic displacement not only stripped these communities of access to fertile land and resources but also entrenched economic disparities that persist today. Similarly, on the Indian subcontinent, the British colonial administration's land policies displaced millions of indigenous people, pushing them into less fertile regions or forcing them to work as labourers on plantations. These communities, already facing economic and social marginalisation, are now among the most vulnerable to climate impacts, such as erratic monsoons and increasing temperatures, with limited access to adaptation resources.
In addition, while countries like India and China are presently among the largest emitters of CO2, it is crucial to recognise that the historical emissions from colonial powers have disproportionately contributed to the current levels of global atmospheric CO2. The industrialisation of Europe and North America, driven by colonial exploitation, played a significant role in the accumulation of greenhouse gases over the past centuries. Despite this, the impacts of climate change are most severe in the Global South—regions that historically contributed the least to global warming. This underscores the ongoing imbalance in global power dynamics, where those who bear the least historical responsibility for climate change are now facing its most devastating consequences, and are often the least equipped to address them.
The Philippines, with its long history of colonialism under Spanish, American, and Japanese rule, provides a clear example of how colonial exploitation has long-term consequences. These foreign powers extracted the country’s resources, leaving behind a legacy of economic and environmental vulnerabilities. Today, as the Philippines crafts policies to strengthen its national development pathway, it faces a new task: to carefully navigate the risk of falling into the same patterns of exploitation and inequitable development that have historically plagued it. The challenge lies in ensuring that these policies do not perpetuate the same cycles of dependency and environmental degradation that have contributed to the existential threat of climate change we now face.
Green colonialism, wolf in sheep’s clothing
Green colonialism, known also as eco-colonialism, is a fairly recent term that has come out as a result of the realisation that there is urgent work to be done if we are to avert the worst impacts of climate change, because the work to avert the crisis also includes the work to ensure that no one is left behind. Broadly speaking, green colonialism occurs when developed countries are able to achieve a high standard of living by exploiting the labour, health, and resources of developing countries. This form of colonialism is distinct in that it masks traditional exploitative practices with the rhetoric of sustainability, allowing wealthier nations to maintain high standards of living while perpetuating inequalities and environmental degradation in the Global South.
However, it can also happen internally, driven by a combination of factors. In a country’s efforts to conserve forests or build renewable energy or other climate-adaptive infrastructure, indigenous peoples and local communities are often pushed further into the margins. This can occur due to external investments that prioritise profit over local rights, the failure of national governments to adequately protect these communities from such external pressures, and national development policies and infrastructure expansion that further accelerate the encroachment on indigenous lands. As a result, these groups are disproportionately impacted by environmental policies enacted on their ancestral lands.
Other examples of green colonialism are in reforestation and conservation. While plans on these projects are laudable, and while intentions are supposedly (and perhaps arguably if not often) good, implementation of these policies without taking into consideration who it displaces and leaves behind effectively reproduces the very same oppressive, if not violent, structures of colonialism. More insidiously, in countries like the Philippines, where land and environmental defenders are prone to attack for opposing these projects, particularly extractivist ones, they are tagged as insurgents and enemies of the State, and are forcefully removed from their ancestral domains.
In addition, conservation efforts have been met with caution by indigenous peoples and local communities, particularly the REDD (Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation in developing countries) and its subsequent framework, REDD+, which are both UN mechanisms. While their main purpose is to halt deforestation, valid criticisms have also been raised about how it can potentially lead to the further marginalisation of farming communities and how its top-down approach is incompatible with the decentralised approach prevalent in community forestry. There are also issues on exacerbation of inequalities, as when women are excluded from decision-making, the erasure of customary traditional knowledge in forest conservation, issues relating to the obtaining of Free, Prior, and Informed Consent (FPIC), and the diversion of attention away from the actual need, which is to have Global North countries pay up for their responsibility in aggravating the climate crisis. These criticisms have led some civil society organisations to consider REDD+ as a false solution.
Another similar initiative that has been met with caution for replicating the “othering” that is reminiscent of colonial narratives are carbon capture, utilisation, and storage (CCUS).
Renewable energy policy making and implementation, as well, can also potentially pose problems. On one hand, many renewable energy infrastructure are now being created by fossil fuel companies, which in itself is an issue, as the internal philosophy of fossil companies is to keep extracting. On the other hand, even purely renewable energy corporations can also fall prey to the colonial mindset of green grabbing as well as highlighting inequalities and creating “sacrifice zones” – areas that are heavily exploited for natural resources or industrial activity, often at the expense of the local environment and its peoples.
The displacement of indigenous groups to produce biofuels or the installation of massive solar farms over agro-pastoralists’ land, for instance, while leading to the creation of renewable energy, can at the same time be destructive and oppressive. Further, minerals used for the transition, coined as critical minerals – these include cobalt, gold, lithium, and copper – which are used to power and manufacture renewable energy infrastructure are again found in the Global South, pushing the responsibility of development, in the present as in the past, on the shoulders of those in the peripheries. Worse, countries and communities over whose land these resources are extracted have difficulty in accessing the energy generated. Energy generated by solar plants or hydropower dams in the Philippines do not redound to the benefit of the indigenous peoples. The indigenous peoples are not only then dispossessed from their land, a resource central to their lives, they are also dispossessed from the products that are created from it.
Green colonialism can also take place when Global North countries force the renewable energy transition on Global South countries, without taking into context economic needs of developing countries or without assisting them – both financially and technically – in the transition. While it is important to recognise the agency that Global South countries have and their ability to negotiate the terms of investments, these countries often face significant economic pressures and limited access to alternative funding sources. These factors can make it challenging to reject investment plans, even when the terms may not fully align with their long-term interests. However, this does not mean that these countries lack a voice.
For example, India recently demonstrated its ability to push back against the G7's Just Energy Transition Partnership (JETP) terms, choosing not to move forward until terms that better aligned with its national priorities were offered. Similarly, South Africa, during its own JETP negotiations, resisted pressures to phase out coal more rapidly than it deemed feasible, arguing for the establishment of a transition plan that took into account the socio-economic realities of its coal-dependent regions. In Latin America, countries like Bolivia and Ecuador have pushed back against foreign investment in lithium mining, demanding that any extraction of this critical mineral for the global energy transition must benefit local communities and respect indigenous land rights. These examples highlight the complexity of the situation, where Global South countries must balance immediate development needs with long-term sustainability and equity concerns.
Moreover, while Global North countries have committed to providing climate finance to support mitigation and adaptation efforts in the Global South, the actual disbursement of funds often falls short of commitments. This financial gap hampers the ability of developing countries to effectively transition to renewable energy and build resilience against climate impacts, reinforcing existing global inequities. This forcing perpetuates economic imbalances where developed countries profit from renewable energy investments while developing countries bear the environmental and social costs. This allocation of burdens and benefits replicate historical patterns of exploitation and dominance and perpetuates a cycle of dependency, which undermines the goal of achieving a just and inclusive global energy transition. Therefore, without an understanding of the historical underpinnings of global climate policies, even the transition can reinforce dependencies and global imbalances that have, in the first instance, led to the climate crisis.
This is not to demonise, however, conservation projects, renewable energy infrastructure, or the energy transition in their entirety. Far from it in fact. What it calls for is a critical look at these plans and policies, to continue to question intent, and to ensure that development is not simply a catchphrase, but is a recognition that development is only just when it is development for all.
There can be no “other” in a climate just world
Colonialism pervaded because of its creation of the “other” – an abstract, nebulous being that is on the other end of extractivism, oppression, and violence. Often the “other” is the Global South, specifically indigenous peoples and local communities, over whose land resources were extracted. These communities were (and continue to be) systematically marginalised, their voices silenced, and their rights trampled upon, all in the name of progress and development for the Global North.
The creation and envisioning of a climate just world demands the removal of the binary or dualistic way of thinking, especially by richer nations and corporations, on how the world is viewed. Development cannot be done at the expense of Global South countries, as that is exactly the reason why the climate crisis is the existential threat that it is today. Efforts, therefore, to address climate change must also avoid repeating these patterns.
It is only in recognizing the interconnections between colonialism and the current climate crisis that we are able to ensure a just and equitable future for all. Green colonialism, which perpetuates the same patterns of exploitation and dominance, and all other legacies of colonialism, cannot be the way forward. There is a need for a fundamental shift in the way we view and understand development, progress, and our relationship with the planet and each other. The journey towards the creation of a climate just world demands that we reject the notion of the “other” and instead work towards the creation of a future that has for its forefront solidarity, equity, and justice.
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Jameela Joy Reyes is a climate justice lawyer affiliated with the Manila Observatory, the Legal Rights and Natural Resources Center (Friends of the Earth Philippines), and the Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change and the Environment.
Disclaimer: This published work was prepared with the support of the Heinrich Böll Stiftung. The views and analysis contained in the work are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of the foundation. The author is responsible for any liability claims against copyright breaches of graphics, photograph, images, audio, and text used.
