Review: ‘The Amazon in Times of War’ By Marcos Colón

Readers who have spent the past several years distracted by the Covid-19 pandemic, global politics, and everything else might be excused for wondering which Amazon war, exactly, this essay collection refers to. But the pieces within make it clear that the title is a deadly accurate description of the period from 2018-2022: it details both the unprecedented physical assaults as well as the economic, institutional and human harm against the Amazon region, nicknamed the “lungs of the Earth”.

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The Amazon in Times of War, a compendium that also includes the occasional song lyrics, several excellent photo essays, and the introduction to a documentary film, provides testimony about the times leading up to and during the brutal regime of former Brazilian president Jair Bolsonaro. Many are first-hand accounts, such as the story of an accidental river journey through the Upper Amazon that lays bare the desperate situation of families during the pandemic. Others are a litany of the brazen policy attacks on the Amazon and its people by Bolsonaro and his henchmen.

An introduction explains the facts of the period, later described as “a history of war on the Amazonian peoples which has just entered its most frightening chapter.” This is a history of repeated attempts to commercialize the Amazon for gain, whether through rubber, cattle, or, more recently, soy, leading to massive numbers of deaths and devastating environmental degradations. 

From there, the book is divided into three sections. The first includes contemporary accounts of the early part of the Bolsonaro administration, giving lie to any assumption that he had hidden his agenda. In fact, the first essay, published before he took office, explains with terrible prescience the destructive policies the leader was propounding. Another piece records the dramatic rise in assassinations of Indigenous leaders during his first year in power. The “assembly line of destructive policies” directed by the President and enacted by Minister of the Environment Ricardo Salles also introduces a theme that pervades the book: that it is impossible to consider the environmental impact on and importance of the Amazon without talking about the Indigenous peoples of the Amazon.

More on the topic: Brazil’s Bolsonaro Accused of Crimes Against Humanity for Assault on Amazon Rainforest

The second part of the book focuses on the dire situation during the Covid-19 pandemic. Here, we learn how the administration took advantage of the situation to dismantle both environmental and Indigenous protections, with the slogan, “Let the stampede through!” The result was not only a disproportionate impact on Indigenous populations but also a vicious cycle of interrelated environmental and health issues. Local people, their immune systems weakened by the smoke from raging wildfires unleashed by rampant exploitation, were unable to access vaccination programs. They were also cut off from both traditional means of sustenance and the cargo boats that ply the river routes. 

However, one meditation on the viral photo of a man from the recently-contacted Zo’é people, carrying his elderly father to get a vaccine despite the lethal policies then in place, calls out the resilience and will to self-determination of people from the region. Meanwhile, the destruction continued: 10,000 square kilometers of forest were lost in 2020, a 34.2% increase compared with the same period in 2019, but fines for illegal logging fell by 50%. (One theme that emerges in various moments throughout the book – unintentionally? – is the vital importance of satellite data in tracking what’s happening in the Amazon.)

The final section, “Beyond War”, warns against a romanticized image of Indigenous people, which can lead to othering, abandonment, and expropriation. It also points out the long-standing tension between opposing metaphorical concepts of the Amazon: a “green hell” or a “dubious paradise”, where a binary understanding allows only innocence or savagery. Indeed, one essay points out that this is not the first time the Amazon has been subject to re-imaginings and exploitation: following the colonial period, which did not end with Brazil’s independence, “[t]he Amazon became a currency to be exchanged for any form of experiment or intervention that claimed to be productive.” 

A chapter about COP26 in Glasgow, Scotland is especially poignant given next month’s “Amazonia” COP30 in the Brazilian city of Belem. “How dare we speak of the planet’s salvation when we exclude from the negotiating table representatives from the countries most affected by the climate crisis?” the author asks. The exclusions in Glasgow included health restrictions, financial restrictions, and a lack of access to Blue Zone; it will be telling to see what has changed in the intervening years.

While the book deals with horrifying subject matter, it ends on a note of cautious optimism: after all, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva (“Lula”) took office January 1, 2023, ending the “nightmare”. What’s more, last month Bolsonaro was sentenced to 27 years in prison for his 2022 coup plot. Still, his fate is not final, and questions remain about Lula: is he only “half a friend” of the Indigenous peoples, as one Yanomami warrior opined? 

It is worth it to read the entire volume. In collections such as this one, what is most important is the focused look it provides at what actually happened over the course of this short period of history. It bears witness to the reality of the destruction. As a popular song re-released in 2020 (“Os Pingo da Chuva,” or “The Raindrops”, by Novos Baianos) states, “When the sky is black / And even the shadows of the clouds are haunting / It is only the reflection of what is happening.”

The Amazon in Times of War
Marcos Colón
2024, Practical Action Press, 222pp

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