Just days before the four-year anniversary of her mother’s murder, Bertha Zúñiga Cáceres, a Honduran activist of indigenous Lenca descent, addressed a crowded lecture hall at the University of California, Los Angeles. “We cannot speak about the struggle against climate change without speaking about the struggle for human rights,” she began. From behind the pulpit, the 29-year-old spoke of the struggle of the Lenca people — the cause for which her mother died – for the need to question our model of consumption and not just alleviate its effects, and for our obligation to address climate change, with those living on its frontlines at the center of the conversation.
Bertha is the daughter of Berta Cáceres, the renowned environmental and human rights activist. As a recipient of the prestigious Goldman Environmental Prize, Berta fought against the construction of a hydroelectric project that was slated to destroy sacred land, cut off water and food supplies, and undermine the autonomy of the indigenous Lenca people in southwest Honduras. After more than a decade of resistance, Berta and the Lenca people were successful in their grassroots campaign and the dam was not constructed. But after years of death threats, the cost of Berta’s triumph was her life. In 2016, she was murdered in her home by a group of armed men, several of whom had links to the company behind the hydroelectric project she had so vehemently opposed. Berta Cáceres was and has grown to be, not only an emblem of the environmental justice movement but a symbol of the inherent risk that for so many accompanies a life lived in defiance of those with great power and greater wealth.
In the years since her death, Bertha Zúñiga Cáceres has inherited her mother’s work and established herself as an activist and leader in her own right. In doing so, she has joined a canon of women (inclusive of trans women) who pioneered the environmental justice movement and continue to advance its cause. For decades, leaders such as Vandana Shiva in India, Dolores Huerta in California, Wangari Maathai in Kenya, and Margie Richard of Mississippi’s “Cancer Alley” have highlighted the corporatization of the food system, the damaging effects of pesticides on farmworkers, the link between ecofeminism and development, and the role of companies such as Shell Chemical in endangering community health. We have likewise seen a shift towards intersectional environmentalism with leaders such as Precious Brady-Davis (a trans woman of color) and P Brown (who identifies as queer non-binary femme) driving activism that centers and includes gender identity.
The central role of women in the environmental justice movement, however, stems from a sobering necessity.
The United Nations estimates that poverty and discrimination render women 14 times more likely than men to die in a climate-related disaster. Poverty also exacerbates exposure to poor air quality and unsafe drinking water especially for communities of color whose neighborhoods are often located near polluting industries. For the trans community, who are more than twice as likely as the U.S. population to be living in poverty, these issues only intensify. For women working in agriculture, especially those who are pregnant, exposure to pesticides poses a risk to their health and that of their children. Women in Pacific Island nations have reported higher incidents of domestic violence tied to the effects of climate change on their communities. And in regions dependent on extractive industries such as mining, women are less likely to benefit from the economic boon of these activities. Rather, they are exposed to higher rates of exploitation, violence, and trafficking.
When issues of climate change, extractive industries, and environmental degradation are inherently linked to bodies, to safety, to capital, and to livelihoods, there exists only a false division between the public environment and the private one. As such, there is a complexity to where these issues intersect, what solutions are possible, and what new realities can be conceived. For the female leaders previously mentioned and the thousands of female activists who are not in the spotlight, these problems are challenging but not insurmountable. At UCLA last month, after Bertha Zúñiga Cáceres outlined the ongoing global struggle of indigenous peoples and the need for a climate movement with human rights at its center, she concluded her speech with a message of optimism.
“If we in Honduras are capable of finding hope and strength,” she said, “then you have an obligation to accompany us.”
In the coming months, Defender will continue to discuss the role of women in the environmental justice movement as we delve into more specific themes ranging from corporate accountability to domestic violence. On a personal note, it is in part thanks to Bertha Zúñiga Cáceres that this project has gone from a promising idea to the email you are reading now. Her passion and fortitude is a reminder that there is power in the collective, that resilience stems from hope, and that we, as women, are capable of multitudes.
Recommended Reading
The Drought Diaries: Loveness January, Zimbabwe; The New Humanitarian
Years of compounded drought across sub-Saharan Africa have left more than 45 million people across 14 countries struggling to find enough food. Since November last year, The New Humanitarian has been tracing the lives of six families in three countries. Loveness January, a 52-year-old widow in Zimbabwe, and her two sons are one of those families. For the past three months, January has been documenting her spending, her income, and the ways in which she has been trying to feed herself and her children. “Nothing is well,” she said in December. “My meagre earnings cannot keep pace with inflation. It is so unbearable.”
While drought is a slow-moving disaster, something that lacks the drama or immediacy of an event like a hurricane, it has a catastrophic impact on people’s lives. January’s diary provides a way to better understand how women, in particular, are not only experiencing drought, hunger, and uncertainty but also responding to climatic changes.
The Tree Huggers Who Saved Indian Forests; Livia Gershon
In the seventies and eighties, in response to widespread deforestation, the women of India’s Garawahl Himalayas began a nonviolent movement to resist logging. Forest clearing had led to more landslides and floods as well as decreased access to water and fuel. Given that women were responsible for collecting water and firewood, the forest’s scarcity was palpable. As a result, the Chipko movement was born. When loggers arrived, women would form circles around the trees, refusing to move until they left. In the late 1970s, scholar and environmental activist, Vandana Shiva, volunteered with the movement and undertook walking pilgrimages to document the deforestation and the work of activists. The Chipko movement highlighted the interdependence between humans and the environment, challenged the government and the private sector, and showed the strength of a feminist approach to ecology.
Watch Vandana Shiva speak about the movement:
Why Women From Asia Are Confronting U.S. Fracking: Oil Extraction Equals Plastic Production; Isabelle Morrison
The oil fracking and plastic production industries are closely intertwined. One, after all, produces the raw materials needed to create the other. But for many people, myself included, this link isn’t always obvious. Two activists — Myrna Dominguez from the Philippines and Lakshmi Narayan from India — are trying to change that. On a tour of U.S. communities affected by fracking, the women showed how ethane — a byproduct of fracking — is used to make plastic goods such as single-use straws or plates. These products are then exported to countries, such as the Philippines, where they eventually end up in a landfill, or in the ocean. This story, an example of intersectional, environmental justice in action, shows how extraction, industry, and globalization are linked to one another, and how solutions can be created across borders.
Black Women Are Leading The Way In Environmental Justice; Samantha Willis
The environmental justice movement in the U.S. has long been powered by black women. Since the late 1980s, women such as Margie Richard and Peggy Shepard, have fought for the health and well-being of low-income, communities of color who are disproportionately impacted by poor air quality, unsafe water, and industrial pollution. More so, nearly 30 years ago, Dr. Dorceta Taylor — one of the mothers of the environmental justice movement — helped write a document that has since defined and guided the movement’s actions. This story traces the history of black, female environmental justice leaders in the United States and the way their actions and advocacy have shaped the movement.
In Pictures
GUATEMALA—Maria Alciro Bolon, a community organizer and indigenous Qʼeqchi’ woman, stands at the edge of a palm oil plantation that borders her home in Palestina II. During Guatemala’s violent civil war, Bolon and her family sought refuge in the humid northern region of the Petén. In the decades since, Bolon has watched her entire community change. The land around her home once belonged to friends and neighbors each of whom was intimidated into selling their land to the palm companies. The community’s main water source, a small river that once flowed clear and fresh, has been diverted to feed the plantations. The river is now stagnant and as most people believe, contaminated with pesticides. With the region locked in drought people have begun spending more money — money they do not have — to buy water.
Bolon, an outspoken critic of the palm industry who has since become a leader in her community, explains that the palm companies will sometimes paint a classroom or buy a water tank before displaying a billboard that details their good deeds. Last year, at one of the women’s meetings, she said, a representative approached the group and offered to hold an environmental workshop.
“Why do we need an environmental workshop from them?,” Bolon said in Qʼeqchi’. “They are the ones who are killing us.”
Photograph by Alessandra Bergamin
Next month, ahead of Earth Day, Defender will focus on climate action. Please reach out if you have any feedback, reading recommendations, or would like to submit a photograph. Thank you for reading!