James Pochury
The global 30×30 conservation initiative, aimed at safeguarding 30% of Earth’s land and seas by 2030, is framed as an urgent ecological necessity. Yet, this approach runs the risk of mirroring colonial systems of exploitation and the marginalization of Indigenous and coastal communities whose guardianship protects these environments for generations.
In December 2022, 200 nations adopted the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework to halt and reverse biodiversity loss by 2030 with four goals and 23 targets during the 15th meeting of the Conference of Parties on the Convention of Biological Diversity or COP15. The 30×30 phrase is formally known as Target 3, one of the 23 targets intended to halt and reverse biodiversity loss.
The 30×30 initiative is designed to address ecological crises but is co-opted by industrial and political elites in Asia and Oceania, turning a mission for the common good into a profit-driven enterprise.
Conservation in Oceania and Asia is long entangled with colonial legacies of dispossession. Lands traditionally managed by Indigenous Peoples were seized to create national parks, leaving communities displaced and their knowledge systems ignored. This model of fortress conservation, as critiqued in Laudato Si’ (151), is not only ecologically flawed but spiritually devastating.
In Indonesia, palm oil plantations continue to encroach on protected forests, displacing Indigenous communities under the guise of restoration. In the Pacific Islands, conservation zones overlap with areas of corporate resource extraction, leaving local communities disenfranchised. Laudate Deum (35) condemns this commodification of nature, decrying the exploitation of ecosystems for profit. It demands the dismantling of these power structures.
The machinery of global conservation initiatives, like 30×30, perpetuates the exclusion of Indigenous voices in favour of corporate and political interests. In the Solomon Islands, for instance, marine conservation projects criminalize traditional fishing practices, cutting off the livelihood of communities that have sustained these ecosystems for generations. This approach stands in direct opposition to Laudato Si’ (145), which insists on the participation of local communities in environmental projects exacerbating social inequalities.
The ongoing exclusion of Indigenous governance from conservation efforts is not only unjust but counterproductive. In West Papua, for example, the displacement of Indigenous communities for palm oil production has led to massive deforestation – the very opposite of what conservation aims to achieve.
In Papua New Guinea, Indigenous landholders expelled from “protected” areas see their lands handed over to extractive industries, such as logging and mining. Similarly, in the Philippines, Indigenous groups like the Mangyan are driven out in the name of forest conservation, while their traditional practices that sustain the forest are disregarded.
Cardinal Oswald Gracias of the Archdiocese of Bombay in India passionately speaks about the critical role of Indigenous Peoples as the “first guardians of creation,” emphasising their irreplaceable contribution to the preservation of our shared home. His plea for the Church to stand with Indigenous Peoples is a call to reject conservation models that commodify nature and marginalize those who care for it.
He noted, “I see that what’s happening [in the Amazon region] is really a worldwide phenomenon of disgracing [indigenous] people. The most intense cry, and consistent cry, has been the violence against the indigenous people, the killing of these people—their leaders, and the violence against their culture…they need to be [protected] against at all costs.”
This insight points to a broader pattern, where Indigenous Peoples and their land are continuously under threat, a reality deeply condemned in Laudato Si’ (146) and Laudate Deum (13), which calls for an integral ecology that intertwines the survival of ecosystems with the dignity of these communities.
Cardinal John Ribat of the Archdiocese of Port Moresby in Papua New Guinea poignantly notes, “I see we are all affected by what is happening to mother earth. This helps me to realize that we are united in a way. We are in the same region; we are in the same experience. This calls us to respond in a way that unites us in caring. How can we begin a kind of network that will bring out what we have in our region? How can we be united in our response?”
Cardinal Ribat’scall appeals for unity and inclusion, a stark contrast to the elite-driven conservation models that often exclude the very communities they claim to protect. He has consistently advocated for these communities, calling for their full participation in decision-making processes, as “principal dialogue partners” in conservation efforts. His vision calls for a future where these communities are central to the ecological mission.
Archbishop Peter Loy Chong of the Diocese of Suva in Fiji also emphasized that conservation must be rooted in Indigenous knowledge systems, not imposed from the top by foreign actors with no understanding of local ecosystems. He has called for a re-imagining of conservation policies to respect and incorporate Indigenous governance systems, recognizing that these wisdom traditions are essential to safeguarding the planet’s future.
The Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines raised concerns that without the full participation of Indigenous and coastal communities, conservation will deepen the disparities it seeks to address.
The Pacific Islanders’ Council of Churches advocates for conservation efforts that respect traditional fishing rights and other Indigenous practices, urging that any initiative must be grounded in principles of justice and inclusion.
What we are witnessing is not just a fight for biodiversity, but a battle for justice. The 30×30 initiative, while ostensibly aimed at ecological protection, often works to consolidate power and wealth, excluding Indigenous and coastal communities who have long been the true guardians of the land and sea.
Conservation cannot succeed without justice for Indigenous and coastal communities.
James Pochury is currently the Regional Coordinator of the River Above Asia Oceania Ecclesial Network (RAOEN) that is promoting biome-based synodality efforts in the subregions of Oceania, South Asia, and Southeast Asia.