Belém on the Brink: A River City Hosting the World’s Climate Reckoning
The morning air in Belém carries the smell of roasting manioc and the sharp sweetness of açaí bowls, while the mighty Amazon murmurs beyond the city’s bustling market. Tourists haggle over carved wooden bowls. Vendors shout over riverboats. And, tucked between stalls and shipping cranes, diplomats from nearly every nation on Earth are arguing about the future of coal, oil and gas.
It is a strange kind of theatre: a city whose streets pulse with local life, becoming for two weeks the nerve centre of a planet-wide debate. Here, under tropical sunlight and relentless humidity, negotiators from 194 countries plus the European Union have been asked to map a route away from the very fuels that built modern economies. The clock is ticking; the atmosphere is taut. “The world is watching Belém,” the United Nations secretary-general reminded delegates, a simple line that felt like both encouragement and challenge.
What’s at stake in Belém?
This summit — COP30 — is about something deceptively simple and terrifyingly complex: how to stop warming the planet by more than 1.5°C. That figure is more than an academic target; it marks a line between manageable climate shifts and a cascade of catastrophes — collapsing crops, rampant wildfire seasons, coastal cities under siege. Scientists have warned that staying below 1.5°C means rapid, coordinated cuts to carbon dioxide emissions and a swift decline in the use of fossil fuels.
Yet, we’re not on track. Delegates from Ireland and elsewhere have warned that current policies point toward warming of roughly 2.3°C–2.5°C this century — a swing that would spell far worse floods, heatwaves and ecosystem collapse than the world agreed to avoid in Paris. Global CO2 emissions remain stubbornly high; fossil fuels still supply roughly four-fifths of the world’s primary energy. Against that backdrop, the question in Belém is not whether the world needs to change, but how to do it fairly and fast.
The fight over fossil fuels
The single most volatile topic on the agenda has been a roadmap for phasing down fossil fuels. Dozens of countries, inspired in part by Brazil’s presidency of the talks, have pushed for a clear plan that lays out timelines and support for nations to move away from oil, gas and coal. Others — including major producers and some developing states whose economies still rely on hydrocarbon exports — have urged caution or resisted firm timetables.
“You can feel the tectonic plates shifting beneath the negotiating table,” said a veteran envoy from a small island state, speaking between sessions. “For us, it’s not an abstract. It’s about survival. We need an exit route from fossil fuels — not just language that sounds good.”
Antonio Guterres has urged leaders to treat 1.5°C as a non-negotiable red line. He pressed delegates to be bold, to follow the science, and to put people before profit. “I strongly appeal to all delegations to show willingness and flexibility,” he said, capturing the pressure that has narrowed the room for political manoeuvre.
Voices on the ground
Outside the conference halls, Belém’s residents see the stakes in a local light. Aída, a fish seller on the docks, wipes her hands on a faded apron and watches barges glide past. “The river changes every year,” she says. “Some species come less, the weather is mad. I don’t know much about ‘COP’ — but I know when my catch gets smaller, my children go hungry.”
Nearby, an indigenous organizer named Paulo explains why the Amazon matters beyond trees and tourist postcards. “This forest is a living bank for the world,” he says. “If we lose it, we lose water cycles, we lose rains for our farms, we lose medicines and languages. We must be at the table when decisions are made.”
Experts who advise negotiators warn that without a credible finance plan, any agreement will be hollow. Developing nations point to the decade-old pledge — $100 billion per year in climate finance — that rich countries still struggle to meet. The loss-and-damage fund established at previous COPs exists, but the demand outstrips commitments. “Money is the lubricant of implementation,” says Dr. Miriam Santos, a climate finance specialist. “You can have gorgeous language on paper, but without predictable finance and technology transfer, transition becomes an empty promise to those most affected.”
What could emerge from the summit?
At their best, climate conferences convert political will into clearer roadmaps and concrete resources. At their worst, they produce carefully worded compromises that postpone hard choices. In Belém, a handful of outcomes are most consequential:
- A clear, time-bound roadmap for a just transition away from fossil fuels, including support for workers and communities;
- Strengthened commitments on climate finance and a timetable to scale up loss-and-damage and adaptation funding;
- Renewed or updated national pledges to cut emissions faster and align public finance with a low-carbon future.
Each of these requires consensus. COPs operate by unanimity; one holdout can dilute a collective signal. That’s why the last 48 hours of the summit often feel like a pressure cooker: ministers, advisors and civil society collide and compromise under immense scrutiny. “This will come down to the wire,” an EU delegate admitted, reflecting a sentiment echoed by others in Belém.
Bigger questions beyond numbered pledges
Belém is more than a diplomatic arena. It is a mirror reflecting deep global inequities. Wealthier nations have emitted most historical emissions; poorer countries face disproportionate impacts. A just transition must account for this imbalance — for stranded workers in coal towns as much as for subsistence farmers in floodplains. How do we balance urgency with fairness? How do we ensure that the rhetoric of “transition” doesn’t become another way to shift burdens onto communities least responsible for the crisis?
Those questions are not abstract. They’re asked in kitchens and riverside markets across the Amazon and in small atolls across the Pacific. They are asked by grandparents watching weather they cannot remember, and by young activists who want not just promises but timelines, tools and money.
So as negotiators in Belém bargain over language and deadlines, where should the rest of us look? Not just to plenary halls and plenary statements, but to the lived realities of those who will feel the decisions most keenly. Ask yourself: what kind of future do we want to invest in — one that shores up profit today at the expense of habitability tomorrow, or one that rebuilds economies around resilience, dignity and ecological balance?
Whatever comes from this COP, the urgency will not ebb with the closing gavel. The Amazon will keep breathing. Workers will still need livelihoods. Science will keep sending signals. The decision in Belém will matter because it will either accelerate the hard work of transition — or delay it further while the planet waits, and the costs mount.
