Across Southeast Asia, environmental defenders and journalists are navigating an increasingly hostile landscape: arrest and interrogation, threats of violence, blatant disregard for the law, bureaucratic obstacles and deliberate legal ambiguity. These are not isolated incidents but part of a growing pattern of suppression aimed at silencing those who stand at the intersection of environmental justice and accountability.
The freedom of the press and civil society to investigate, report and act is a fundamental human right.
Beyond its intrinsic value, this freedom is instrumental in holding governments, corporations and other powerful actors accountable, driving transparency and shaping policies that protect both people and the planet. Without these freedoms, the pathway to environmentally and socially just outcomes is obstructed.
Yet, in Southeast Asia, these freedoms are increasingly under fire. From government crackdowns and threats of physical violence, to more insidious and indirect forms of intimidation, like lawsuits, the space for environmental defenders and journalists across the region is shrinking.
According to Global Witness, Asia accounted for the murders of 468 defenders between 2012 and 2023, with the Philippines, Indonesia and Thailand among the most dangerous in the region.
Ironically, this troubling trend is starkly at odds with regional body the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (Asean’s) announcement of a draft regional environmental rights declaration in March 2024.
The declaration, which builds on the UN’s 2021 formal recognition of “the right to a safe, clean, healthy and sustainable environment”, aspires to enshrine this right in the region’s legal and political frameworks. But the lived reality for many environmental defenders tells a far darker story.
Five environmental defenders and journalists from across the region tell their stories.
Myanmar: Silencing voices amid military repression
As a journalist with over a decade of experience in Myanmar, I have witnessed firsthand the dangers environmental defenders face. In 2016, while working for the Associated Press, my team investigated illegal logging in Kawlin and Katha townships in Myanmar’s Sagaing region.
We discovered illegal loggers, backed by thugs and organised crime, intimidating local environmental activists. Despite locals knowing the locations of these illegal operations, they were powerless to act due to threats from the illegal loggers, corrupt officials and soldiers. Corruption within law enforcement and the Forestry Department further facilitated this exploitation of natural resources.
Under the current military regime, the situation has deteriorated. Since the 2021 coup, voices opposing the military have been systematically silenced, leaving no space for environmental advocacy. With the military incapable of sustaining democratic reforms, they are unlikely to ensure environmental sustainability either.
Before the coup, there were glimmers of hope. For example, in 2019, the Clean Yangon Campaign, an environmental NGO, spearheaded by environmentalists, activists and volunteers, focused on public education and hands-on cleanups in the city.
These efforts transformed neglected areas, with alleys turned into parks and graffiti galleries. Public awareness and participation grew, demonstrating the power of education and legal advocacy in promoting environmental sustainability. However, many of the activists involved were forced to flee after the coup, effectively stalling progress.
Similarly, during Myanmar’s brief quasi-democracy in 2011, activists mobilised against environmentally destructive projects like the Myitsone Dam and the Sino-Myanmar gas pipeline. These protests successfully halted the dam’s construction.
Yet, since the coup, the crackdown on freedom of expression has silenced all opposition, including from Indigenous communities. Environmental defenders and journalists now face severe risks under the dictatorship, including arbitrary arrests, interrogations by military intelligence officials and imprisonment.
By a Myanmar journalist reporting from Yangon [name withheld for safety reasons]
Thailand: Legal threats and corporate collusion
As a journalist in Thailand, I’ve seen how the threat to environmental defenders often takes the form of a legal warning initiated by private entities, who are frequently either joint investors in projects with the government or the developers and owners of the projects themselves.
In national or regional projects, it’s rare for the national government to directly act against the defenders. Instead, their opposition is often deployed through local officials who confront the defenders, or by the government dragging its feet on necessary paperwork.
This creates a tense environment, where defenders can be subject to verbal or physical confrontations that can arise as conflicts develop and intensify.
This also happens with local projects, such as mining concessions. Environmental defenders frequently face threats from both local officials and developers – several in Thailand have been shot and killed due to their opposition to development projects.
Governments and corporations often side with each other, while excluding and marginalising local communities and environmental defenders.
These local communities, particularly when they side with environmental defenders, are often isolated from development processes and subjected to various forms of intimidation, including verbal, physical and legal threats. Environmental defenders, are also often community leaders, thus making them prime targets for threats from both local officials and developers and even members of their own communities.
By Piyaporn Wongruang, founder and editor of the award-winning Bangkok Tribune, which focuses on the environment and development in the Mekong region
Vietnam: Activists behind bars
As an environmental reporter, I’ve closely followed the wave of arrests targeting leaders of non-governmental groups and the closure of environmental organisations in Vietnam, which highlights the challenging circumstances faced by activists in the one-party state.
Journalists who hold the government and influential private interests accountable face intense scrutiny. Vietnamese authorities have consistently intimidated and harassed environmental leaders, with several sentenced to prison on tax-related offences – a common tactic used by the government to suppress dissent.
Non-profit groups in Vietnam are particularly susceptible to pressure from both the state and powerful private interests due to their ambiguous legal status.
The concept of civil society is viewed by the government and the Communist Party of Vietnam as a threat to official doctrine and morality, despite the fact that the government acknowledges the importance of NGOs as partners in carrying out social and environmental projects.
Complicating matters further, government economic interests are highly intertwined with the very industries environmental defenders challenge. For example, the state owns all coal reserves in Vietnam; any calls to reduce coal usage are perceived as outright attacks on the interests of influential parties.
Despite these obstacles, the country is poised to receive billions of dollars from foreign governments, including the United States, Canada, the EU and the United Kingdom, to facilitate a Just Energy Transition Partnership (JET-P) and Vietnam’s goal of achieving net-zero emissions by 2050.
By a Vietnamese environmental reporter working in sustainability, environmental protection and local affairs [name withheld for safety reasons]
Indonesia: Nickel mining’s toll on people and planet
Indonesia is home to the world’s largest nickel reserves. Critical to batteries and the EV industry, the government is aggressively expanding nickel production to establish itself as a global player in these sectors. I have witnessed the darker sides of this ambition.
The people of Kabaena, a small but nickel-rich island in Southeast Sulawesi, are struggling with ecological destruction and human rights violations caused by mining. The island is inhabited by the Bajau Tribe, the last sea nomadic people in the world, whose survival depends on the sea and customary rules that preserve the marine environment.
Their unique way of life is imperilled by nickel mining. Around 73% of the island has been handed over to mining companies, in clear violation of Indonesia law, which prohibits mining on small islands with an area of less than 2,000 km². There are currently 16 active nickel mining business permits on the island, according to data from the Ministry of Energy and Mineral Resources.
During my visits to Kabaena as a researcher earlier this year, I saw firsthand the struggles of the Kabaena people. Farmers complain that their lands are no longer fertile due to the impact of mining, while fisherpeople struggle to find fish, forcing them to venture farther into the sea.
In some villages, the seawater has become so polluted that it causes itching and severe skin diseases among fishermen and children. Mining waste has destroyed coral reefs, polluted the sea and driven fish away.
A report published this year by the civil society organisations, Satya Bumi and Walhi Southeast Sulawesi, revealed that many Bajau parents now forbid their children from swimming in the sea.
Once trained as divers from a young age, Bajau children are no longer taught this essential skill on account of the polluted seawater, which makes their skin itchy and sore. Tragically, three Bajau children drowned after falling into murky water. Unable to swim, they did not survive.
While conducting my research on Kabaena, I was repeatedly stopped and asked if I had authorisation. At times, I suspected we were being followed by individuals linked to mining operations. I also met with local people there who have been fighting to expel mining companies from their lands since 2007. One of these individuals has received multiple threats and is even being investigated by the police on account of his activism.
An environmental defender with focus on Indigenous Peoples based in Indonesia [name withheld for safety reasons]
Cambodia: Riding roughshod over Indigenous land rights
As an Indigenous environmental defender in Cambodia, I face a complex and often ambiguous situation regarding our communities’ rights. A law passed in 2001 officially recognised our land rights, but because many of us live near natural resources, economic and political interests often override those rights.
The government lacks genuine commitment to implementing the laws that respect and protect our rights. Much of the land that has always belonged to us has been reclassified as state land. When we try to claim our rights, the government uses other laws to challenge us. This is particularly evident when we demand our right to land and natural resources under the 2001 communal land titles.
This has also been the case when our people try to protect the forest. When we try to partner with the government and Ministry of Environment, we are often told, “No, this does not belong to you. It belongs to this department, to this ministry, or this administration.”
This makes it very difficult for us to contribute to conservation efforts. When we identify cases of illegal logging or activities that harm the forest, natural resources or wildlife, we face threats – not just from illegal loggers, but also from local authorities. Our human rights defenders often encounter violence, including death threats.
The government also accuses us of being influenced by the political agendas of foreign agents, often pointing fingers at the involvement of NGOs in our work. This creates additional barriers for us to participate freely in conservation and protection efforts.
As a result, we turn to social media, or national and international media to raise awareness of issues and to pressure the government to intervene. We also try to use existing mechanisms at the local level, for example applying for community protected areas, communal land titles, or orders to safeguard our forests. We also try our best to protect forest borders and block opportunities for illegal logging.
While these efforts have allowed us to save some forests, addressing the root causes of these issues remains incredibly challenging. We are given such little space to act, and our legal rights are rarely acknowledged. Our rights need to be respected, and we should not have targets placed on our backs.
By Lorang Yun, a Bunong Indigenous advocate from the Cambodia Indigenous Peoples Alliance, working with four Indigenous groups, including the Bunong, Stieng, Thmorn and Kroal.
This article was originally published on Dialogue Earth under a Creative Commons licence.
