The Baby COP

Of the three Rio conventions, the most useful might well be the least known: the desertification one.

By the 1980s it was becoming obvious to most decision-makers that the extraordinary development of fossil fuel-driven industrial civilisation was having nasty side effects on the little blue dot that is our home planet.

So, in 1992, the nations of the world agreed to try to do something about it. Meeting in Rio de Janeiro, they decided to agree not one, but three Conventions to try to tackle the human-induced malfunction of various earth systems.

Ever since known as the three Rio Conventions, the best-known one deals with the climate, while its little siblings deal with biodiversity and desertification. Every year (climate) or two (the other two), the signatory nations come together to review implementation and agree additional goals and targets to try to achieve the ever-receding objective of a stable, healing planet.

The Year of the Three COPs

2024 was extraordinary because these get-togethers, known as Conferences Of the Parties or COPs, happened practically back to back - which highlighted the sheer difference between them. The ball was opened by the Biodiversity COP, held in Cali, a lovely city in the biodiversity hotspot of Colombia. It was a relatively modest affair, whose political irrelevance was illustrated by the fact that less than a quarter of its signatories bothered to submit their national biodiversity strategies and action plans. Delegates could do little more than bemoan the fact that none of the biodiversity targets agreed back in 2010, known as the Aichi targets, were going to be met by 2030, and probably not before pigs start flying.

The big beast in the Rio Convention jungle is the Climate COP. The 2024 edition was held in Baku, the capital city of the petro-autocracy of Azerbaijan. It attracted by far the biggest audience, most of it comprised of corporate lobbyists tasked with ensuring that, whatever the world agreed, it would not hamper the important business of making money from pumping, selling and burning fossil fuels.

In that, they were successful.

The third of 2024's COPs, the one devoted to desertification, was hosted by Saudi Arabia. The country proposed impeccable credentials to do so: in addition to helping to block meaningful climate agreements, it had two weeks prior distinguished itself by torpedoing a UN treaty to tackle plastic pollution.

Still, it is a country beset by desertification that takes at least that issue seriously, and so perhaps, just perhaps, something good might come out of its presidency of the proceedings. If so, it would be none too soon: as the UNCCD's 2022 Global Land Outlook documents in exhaustive detail, when the choice is between saving the planet and making money from unsustainable land use practices, the latter tends to win - every time.

That COP, officially known as UNCCD COP16, is the one I attended.

I did so wearing three hats: as a representative of CIFOR-ICRAF, of IUAF, the International Union of Agroforestry, and at the invitation of the Belgian government, which had asked me to help negotiate on agricultural matters on its behalf, notably by helping prepare the European Council Conclusions on Desertification and Land Degradation, adopted in October 2024.

A city planner's worst nightmare

Upon arrival in Riyadh, the country's priorities were abundantly clear. Not only was there not a single electric car to be seen anywhere, but the city seemed carefully designed to maximise driving. For example, getting to a restaurant a few hundred meters away from my hotel on foot was absolutely impossible. Getting there by taxi took 5 km. The trick? Urban freeways everywhere, no pedestrian crossings, no pavements, and - veeeery important! - no left turns. If you want to go left, tough luck: you have to go right, and drive anywhere between 500 m and a couple of kilometres before finding a U-turn.

The COP venue seemed to confirm that the one thing Saudi Arabia does really well is wasting resources. The whole massive complex - the Blue zone, where the official events happen, and the Green zone, where NGOs, civil society or, here in Saudi Arabia, government ministries, expose their wares - was built for the occasion on a giant parking lot, all of it doubtless to be carted off to the nearest landfill once the conference is over.

It was beset by such bitter thoughts that I started my two weeks there.

These were soon dispelled by a welcome surprise: Saudi Arabia may have a puritan reputation, but its people are absolutely delightful. Full of life and good cheer, delighting in making jokes, they are clearly intent on enjoying themselves. One soon becomes an expert in catching a woman's smile from her eyes alone, in joking with Uber drivers or in enjoying its street food. The people offer fascinating windows into the country's history: just as in the US, Black citizens tend to be the descendants of slaves, and are overrepresented in service jobs like security and catering. The winter has a pleasant climate, and as soon as a working day is over people stream outside to parks or art galleries, where amateur artists enthusiastically put brush to canvas. No wonder some old friends I met professed themselves delighted by the lives they led there.

The negotiations themselves were a revelation. First, the 27 nations of the European Union are represented by a single seat. So Nauru or Jamaica, say, have exactly as much voice as the 450 million people of one of the the world's 3 economic superpowers. That doesn't mean you only have a few Eurocrats representing Europe there; most EU member states send a delegation anyway, to help craft common EU positions.

Second, the collaboration between the EU member states is absolutely excellent: in the morning EU coordination meetings, discussions were far more about the how than about the what.

Third, the EU delegated much of the agricultural file to Belgium. Thus, language I proposed on Belgium's behalf suggesting the inclusion of agroforestry, agroecology, or contextually relevant and holistic approaches, became EU positions. Much of that language made it into formal UNCCD COP Decisions, such as the ones on agricultural lands, knowledge sharing, collaborating with the GEF, sand and dust storms, or on the 2030 strategic framework.

Sadly, we also lost some battles: for example, the EU language on holistic grazing and grassland overresting didn't make it into the rangeland and pastoralists decision, while a group of non-EU agricultural superpowers blocked all efforts to refer to the need to reduce the use and ideally eliminate harmful agricultural subsidies.

My respect for negotiators grew in leaps and bounds. When we read about their job in the media, we don't get much of a feeling for what it actually involves. You need to participate yourself for the brutal reality of it to hit home. These people spend every hour of every day, frequently until very late at night, in meeting rooms discussing language line by line and word by word. They usually don't find the time to attend any of the fascinating set of side events and exhibitions on offer. That has clear downsides: I frequently felt that the negotiators' outputs would be improved by attending a few side events to learn more about the Earth systems they were discussing.

But that is the way the world comes together to negotiate. As US President Eisenhower said in his farewell address in 1961, "this world of ours, ever growing smaller, must be a proud confederation of mutual trust and respect. Such a confederation must be one of equals. The weakest must come to the conference table with the same confidence as do we." Giving everyone at the table the right to suggest or object to language, in a mechanism requiring consensus, beats the way the globe managed its affairs in previous centuries.

Luckily, my other hats gave me the excuse to leave the negotiation rooms and be an active participant in the multitude of side events characterising a COP. And boy, were the pickings rich!

Most significantly, Riyadh was the coming-out party for a subject very close to my heart: silvopastoralism - the integration of trees into grazing systems - and grasslands, and the many ways in which they can be (mis-)managed.

The topic was almost absent at the COP in Ordos, China, in 2018, and only made timid appearances at the subsequent COPs in New Delhi and Abidjan. But here in Riyadh, it was almost impossible to avoid the subject. It is difficult to make a comprehensive tally, because events in the various pavilions and the Green Zone are not comprehensively recorded, but a colleague of mine, Leigh Winowiecki, estimated there were over 30 events devoted to the subject. I myself spoke at, sat on the panels of, or moderated six of them. They gave me the opportunity to meet real heroes, like Hunter Lovins, cofounder of the legendary Rocky Mountain Institute; to interact with decision-makers like Kanouté Fatoumata Koné, the director general of Mali's forestry division; and to explore innovative approaches like PRM, participatory rangeland management, with innovative scientists like ILRI's Fiona Flintan.

Perhaps the most encouraging sign was to see conservation-focused organisations like WWF, IUCN, and Conservation International focusing on the role that pastoralism could play to restore the wilderness areas that are their core business. IUCN published its first flagship report on Agriculture and Conservation a month before the COP's start, and the global head of food at WWF, João Campari, focused on the mechanics of integrating grazing with conservation.

The spirit of recognising the importance of traditional and indigenous ways of managing grazing also pervaded the negotiations, and helped lead to an agreement on the first-ever Rangelands and Pastoralists Decision by the parties. To think that a mere few years ago, cattle and their owners would have been seen by all as conservation enemy number one!

The positive contribution of Saudi Arabia was significant. The Riyadh Global Drought Resilience Partnership raised over $2 billion from various parties. An effort by the Islamic development bank group to finance certification to the team of $10 billion.

It was not all plain sailing: some bemoaned the lack of a binding agreement on drought, pushed back to the next COP (Mongolia 2026), and the proposal to have a decision on sand and dust storms also drew opposition - not unreasonably so, since these are a consequence of land degradation and desertification, and so not requiring a separate instrument. And while parties made significant financial commitments, there was no binding accountability framework to ensure implementation.

Still, for this agroforester, this was overwhelmingly positive. not only is the world beginning to recognise the importance of the right kind of rangeland management, but it has also embraced agroecology and agroforestry. Perhaps the most encouraging sign was that COP16 pushed businesses and financial institutions to invest in regenerative agriculture and green infrastructure.

And the most unexpected surprise? I loved those two weeks without alcohol. Evening gatherings staid at a pleasant volume, most people could remember what was said, and one woke up the next morning bright and fresh. I would definitely recommend subsequent COP hosts to copy that particular policy.

Finally, why only publish this now, three months after the event finished?

One answer is that it makes sense to remind people of the importance of this COP now the hullabaloo is over. Another one is that I simply forgot to post it at the time. I'll let you decide which is more truthful.