The Kayapo: Guardians of the Rainforest, Unfazed by Global Politics
As we gaze out the window, Brazil’s cattle country unfolds before us, a stark contrast to the lush rainforests that once dominated this land. Enormous ranches, reminiscent of Texas, dot the landscape alongside unattractive towns that emerged during Brazil’s westward expansion in the 1970s and 80s. It’s hard to believe that as a child, I witnessed an impenetrable rainforest in these very places.
Today, only scattered remnants of the rainforest remain, and a warming climate threatens to claim even more. Along the road, we spot fires, a stark reminder of the challenges faced by this fragile ecosystem. Despite the apparent greenery, these fires burn fiercely, fueled by reduced rainfall and higher temperatures during the dry season.
Last year alone, nearly 140,000 fires, mostly human-induced, ravaged the region, burning for longer periods and causing more destruction. Despite significant efforts by President Lula da Silva’s government to reduce deforestation, fires in 2024 claimed millions of hectares, undoing much of the progress made.
And once the forest succumbs to flames, it often loses its legal protection, making way for cattle to move in. How can rainforests, vital carbon sinks that help combat global warming, withstand the dual pressures of climate change and human activities?
Perhaps the answer lies in the presence of people like the Kayapo, one of Brazil’s 300 indigenous groups, who have successfully protected their ancestral lands. This is no small feat, considering their territory is as large as Portugal, yet they number only slightly over 9,000.
In the past, the Kayapo fiercely resisted invaders and early attempts by the Brazilian government to claim their land. The village we visit, Kubenkrankehn, translates ironically as “bald white man,” a reference to an early missionary who came to convert the Kayapo centuries ago but met with little success.
We are greeted with singing and dancing, a vibrant display of tradition and unity often attributed to their resilience. But it’s also a performance for our cameras.
The Kayapo’s struggle continues as they fight for recognition and financial support to protect their land from the encroachment of ranches, roads, and illegal gold mines that threaten the forest bordering their territory. After a visit to a guard post, we venture further to witness the beauty they strive to preserve.
And it is breathtaking. A land of cascading waterfalls, towering trees, and an abundance of life. Here, the sounds of nature mimic the buzzing and ringing of mobile phones, a symphony created by millions of creatures.
An elder shares how even this healthy forest has transformed in response to warmer temperatures and reduced rainfall. He believes leaders who deny climate change do so because they live in comfort, detached from the realities of nature.
So, when I ask about Donald Trump, he admits he’s never heard of him. The Kayapo attend COP30, not because they’re interested in the politics of climate change or the transition to low-carbon economies, but because they see an opportunity.
To them, the rainforest is a powerful tool to combat climate change, absorbing the carbon we emit and transforming it into life. With global warming an inevitable reality, preserving forests like theirs is one of our best defenses against a dangerously hotter future.
The Kayapo’s story is a reminder that sometimes, the most powerful solutions lie in the hands of those who are closest to the land, unaffected by the politics of the world.