Rights of Nature in Ecuador

For as long as they have existed, the indigenous people of Ecuador’s Sarayaku region have inhabited a forest fed by water from the Andes mountains, which drains into the Amazon basin through the Bobonaza River. They share an architecture of sacred tree canopies sheltering a rich undergrowth populated by millions of animals and insects. When an oil company invaded their territory in the 1990s, the people of Sarayaku were challenged to become the voices and last line of defense for their ecosystem. Their struggle helped shape their country’s constitution—and showed the world that nature, not just people, can have rights.

Compared to Ecuador’s population of over 14 million, the Kichwa of Sarayaku have a small population of just 1,200, but this didn’t stop them from mobilizing in defense of the earth. For generations the Kichwa of Sarayaku had watched as their closest neighbors, both Indigenous people and recent colonists, were subjected to violence and displacement by the state and the agents of extractive industries. Developers of oil wells, pipelines, large-scale mining, forestry, and hydroelectric stations used payoffs and threats to gain control over Indigenous lands in the region. When developers threatened their own lands, the people of Sarayaku chose to stay and fight rather than to accept displacement.

Grandparents would watch the children while young men and women patrolled the land, confiscating guns and explosives from oil company security and trained soldiers. For years they disrupted the best laid plans of the oil company and its enablers in the Ecuadorian military, ultimately leading to their withdrawal and a victory for Sarayaku on June 27, 2012, at the Inter-American Court.

Following Sarayaku’s lead, other Indigenous groups in Ecuador … are taking ownership over their connections to the animals and the plants and their roles as defenders.

Important to Sarayaku’s success was the community’s use of innovative media tactics to gain attention and keep the struggle visible to the public. When the internet was still young, the Sarayaku community took advantage of it to embarrass the government by publicizing their victories against the military on their own website. At the time, media outlets would not cover their actions. When radio stations would not carry their messages, Sarayaku activists directed their voices within earshot of broadcasters’ microphones, yelling to be heard, speaking of their spiritual calling and describing their connection to the life-giving rainforest. In 1992, they walked the land for a month, meeting with everyone along the way and making new allies, until they reached Ecuador’s capital, Quito, and demanded an audience with the president.

Sarayaku’s people used diverse tactics to protect their spiritual homeland. Their struggle was guided by sumak kawsay, a principle enshrined in their cosmology. Sumak means wholeness, beauty, a state of wellness that is complete and harmonious, while kawsay refers to life. In becoming teachers of sumak kawsay, they also became scholars of the legal frameworks imposed on them. In the first battle, they demanded titles to their land and were successful. When they learned that their ownership of the land surface did not prevent the state from selling off the mineral rights underneath it, they became experts in international law and found means to overcome this threat. They filed a complaint with the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, then recorded evidence for seven years, updating the Commission continually, until it agreed to take their case against the state of Ecuador. In 2011 they won, securing a historic judgment against the state of Ecuador. Because the ruling was at the international level, Ecuador was forced to follow its own laws. Today, the people in Sarayaku still monitor the state for compliance.

Following Sarayaku’s lead, other Indigenous groups in Ecuador have started to wear traditional jewelry, makeup, and bright feather headdresses when they speak to outsiders, and are taking ownership over their connections to the animals and the plants and their roles as defenders. Amazonian women in particular are fighting to defend their ways of life, even when the male tribal leaders are bought off or made to bow to political pressure.

In 2008, Ecuador adopted a new constitution that borrowed language from Kichwa cosmology. The constitution, drafted by popular assembly, speaks of the shared purpose of sumak kawsay as an alternative to the global model of capitalist development. The concept underlies the entire constitution. The document affirms the intrinsic rights of the natural world, the Pachamama, and equates the destruction of Indigenous habitats with genocide. In reality, however, those who ratified the new constitution seem to have understood little of what they were committing to law. The national leadership soon went on to continue the extractive practices of previous governments.

The 2008 constitution was Ecuador’s 20th constitution since gaining independence from Spain in 1830. Following a chaotic political decade that saw three coups, economic crises, massive out-migration, and the rise of a new governing coalition in 2006, elections were held to choose representatives for a constitutional assembly, and this assembly dissolved the National Congress. More than 3,000 legislative proposals were submitted to the new assembly for consideration and debate. The rights of nature were championed by the president of the constitutional assembly, economist Alberto Acosta, and were understood to be critical to ensuring Indigenous support for the document. But no ombudsperson’s office was created to defend the rights of nature, so Indigenous nations themselves remain the staunchest defenders of these rights in Ecuadorian society.

In 2020, as the COVID-19 pandemic decimated the global economy, Sarayaku was swept away by the worst flood in generations. Schools, houses, and crops were swallowed by the Bobonaza River. Despite the state’s failure to protect them, Sarayaku’s people are grateful to have retained their connection to the Pachamama. In recent years, they drew on their shared knowledge of medicinal plants to treat the symptoms of COVID-19. Their international allies have contributed to a crowdfunding campaign that allowed Sarayaku to rebuild—the din of hammering can be heard among the bird song and rooster crows. Today, new solar panels enable a satellite internet connection, keeping Sarayaku’s leadership in contact with the cities and their allies.

The people of Sarayaku know the state did not understand the language it enshrined in law in 2008, just as in 2007 it did not fully grasp the international commitments it agreed to when signing the UN Declaration of the Rights of Indigenous People, requiring Indigenous self-determination and informed consent. Today, the Kichwa continue to push for the Kawsak Sacha (living forest) proposal and for further legal safeguards for nature, the source of all life. To Sarayaku’s people, the task of educating those who would destroy their way of life transcends the boundaries of Ecuador and connects them to every living being on the planet.