The 30th UNFCCC Conference of the Parties (COP30) proved anything but typical, sharply diverging from its 29 predecessors and making history with its string of unexpected turns. Like most COP conventions, it ran past its Friday deadline, extending deep into the rainy Amazon weekend in pursuit of a global deal. For COP30, the pièce de résistance was a definitive roadmap for phasing out fossil fuels, building on the climate change agreement from COP28. Yet, before detailing that agreement, which at the very least would include the words “fossil fuels,” we must recount a legendary Thursday that dramatically set the tone for COP30’s unforeseen ending.
That legendary Thursday began with our first encounter with the peculiar: a large, almost demonic-looking commemorative sculpture, a gift to Brazil and COP30 from the Chinese Communist Party. Unveiled publicly in COP30’s “Free Zone”—miles from the main convention in a downtown Belém park—images of it swiftly went viral, igniting public outrage. Online reactions were swift and intense; one reader declared, “My family and I reject this gift in the name of Jesus! We disconnect ourselves on earth and in heaven from whatever this ‘gift’ represents.” Another scoffed, “Horrible, but it’s typical of what humanity and Brazilian politics have done to the marvelous Amazon.”
Titled “The Dragon-Jaguar Guardian Spirit” and “Keeper of the Tropical Forest” by Chinese ecological artist Huang Jian (also an Olympic art ambassador), the sculpture, as seen in photos, merges a dragon, a jaguar, and a human (note the muscular human arms and hands tightly enfolding the earth). It purportedly symbolizes China and Brazil’s unified vision for environmental protection. While dragons in Chinese culture represent power, strength, and imperial authority, and jaguars in Brazil signify power and harmony with nature, the human elements remained unexplained. The fusion could be interpreted as a shared governmental commitment to climate action. Yet, it’s deeply ironic that China, the world’s largest emitter, simultaneously strives to maintain its “developing country” status, a designation that conveniently exempts it from significant legal and financial climate obligations under international agreements.
The sculpture rests on a cylindrical base adorned with four scenes: a joyful young dragon-jaguar with an Amazonian princess; Amazonian beasts coexisting peacefully; a weeping jaguar amidst an axe, felled trees, smoke, and polluted waters; and finally, Amazonian peoples and wild animals striving to save the last ancient tree. The profound irony, of course, is that the creation and very presence of this artwork, and indeed COP30 itself, are entirely dependent on the fossil fuels it ostensibly decries.
Leaving the Dragon-Jaguar, we returned to the convention grounds to find another attention-grabbing sculpture: an 8.5-foot, United Nations-approved statue of President Trump. Positioned inside the gates of the UN compound, just outside the main doors, “The King of Injustice” and “The Orange Plague” depicted an obese, naked Trump straddling the shoulders of a frail man. In one hand, he held a golf club, its head poised beside a carved golf ball representing planet Earth—perhaps implying the world is merely a game to him. In his other hand, a legal scale “symbolized his power to define justice,” a claim etched into the pedestal, which also referenced Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” The sculptor described it as “a satirical outcry against Trump” and the United States’ “assault on the green transition and the rules-based world order.”
As the sculptor justified his artwork, a sudden, unpleasant smell of fire coated the air. Ashes drifted from the sky, and we gasped at the toxic black clouds billowing directly over the COP30 entry. It was legendary! Within seconds, thousands of attendees poured out of the doors—a full evacuation of a conference packed with tens of thousands of participants was underway. The smoke ballooned over the massive, circus-like COP30 tent, merging with the stormy Amazon rain clouds. Moments later, the rain began to fall, followed by a loud boom of thunder. Was this a metaphor in the making?
Emergency personnel arrived with blaring sirens; drones and a helicopter hovered above. We watched for over an hour with hundreds of evacuees congregating around the Trump statue, which stood at a safe distance from the building’s internal fire. In that nerve-wracking moment, the satire and laughter the statue provoked offered a strange levity to a serious situation, and the sculptor suddenly found a much larger audience. “We need to quit talking about Trump, but to achieve that, we first need to talk about Trump,” he lectured one reporter, giving him a tiny look-alike sculpture as a memento. He handed out 6,000 3D-printed statues in total, mostly to delegates. The supreme irony? Each was made from fossil fuels—the conference’s other chief villain, besides Donald J. Trump and the USA.
Eventually, the fire was extinguished by bombeiros (Brazilian firefighters) using their fossil-fueled equipment. Thankfully, only a few people required treatment for smoke inhalation. Understandably, the conference was suspended until further notice.
We returned Friday morning, eager to weigh the fire’s damage and its impact on the climate negotiations. A smoky smell lingered from the air conditioning ducts of the massive tent structure, though nothing overtly alarming. Guardrails now blocked numerous exhibits, including the popular Chinese booth. Thousands of bright red fire extinguishers lined halls and flanked every entry. The day dragged into early morning hours with no final document in sight; overtime into the weekend was inevitable.
By Saturday morning, the vast crowds had thinned considerably. Local Brazilian workers were already dismantling exhibits and wrapping “eco-friendly” plastic chairs in protective plastic bubble wrap. The once-bustling exhibit and meeting halls were largely empty. Only a few thousand people remained: United Nations staff; NGO lobbyists anxiously awaiting the closing session and hoping their two weeks of politicking for a “fossil fuel phaseout” had paid off; exhausted country delegates, eager to depart after two grueling weeks of late-night negotiations; and the COP30 presidency and high-level decision-makers, cloistered in a lengthy, closed-door meeting down a narrow corridor where hundreds of media agents packed in tight, poised to pounce the moment the doors opened.
A faint smell of smoke still lingered, as did the burning question—known only by those in the closed-door meeting: would “fossil fuel phaseout” be included in the final document?
Finally, a stir in the narrow corridor. The doors opened. Like ravenous ants on a drop of honey, media agents of every kind launched at the few high-level “decision makers” who tried to weave their way to the plenary (the closing session). The bright, hot lights from major media’s expensive cameras and their desperate hunger to get the best angle and the first “breaking news” headline caused intense heat in that narrow space, making it genuinely suffocating.
One elderly, petite French delegate was escorted out of the media pack into a stanchioned-off media-free zone, peeling off her jacket, barely escaping fainting. After she caught her breath, UN security escorts joked amongst themselves, their barks and howls mimicking a pack of wolves on a kill as they mocked the media. The French lady smiled at them. Yet, even as she tried to gain composure and make her way to the plenary, a dozen persistent journalists cleaved to her, cameras hovering and microphones shoved in her face. She explained (in French) what had transpired behind closed doors. This scene repeated for every delegate emerging from that meeting.
As more time elapsed, the plenary was delayed for another hour. While a tropical downpour hammered the roof, the all-consuming question relentlessly persisted: would “fossil fuel phaseout” be included in the final document?
The plenary was set across two vast rooms. In Tocantins, the “overflow” room, we sat watching big screens with live cameras prying into Plenary Room Amazonas, where delegates would take their assigned seats and the COP30 presidency would take to the dais. The whole day seemed like hours of waiting. Finally, André Corrêa do Lago (the COP30 president) welcomed everyone, looking visibly stressed as he looked down at the paperwork before him.
For many hours that followed, Do Lago led the plenary, reading aloud the negotiated decisions. With over 50 items to agree on, the process is grueling. In these proceedings, decisions guiding international climate policy are adopted by consensus and then gaveled into existence, provided a sufficient number of delegates are present. The key decision everyone awaited at COP30 was “the Global Mutirão,” expected to contain commitments on phasing out fossil fuels, increased finance for climate damage and adaptation, trade measures, and emissions reporting. Tired delegates complained of sleep deprivation; some departed early to catch flights home, raising tensions, as the talks could fall apart if too many countries left.
For each decision, Do Lago would say, “Hearing no opposition,” then smack the gavel, declaring, “It passes.” This went on and on, decision after decision, some receiving applause, most nothing. And then he passed the key deal of these talks—”The Global Mutirão: uniting humanity in a global mobilization against climate change”—which received energetic applause from both rooms.
However, the absence of phasing out fossil fuels in “the Global Mutirão” text immediately sparked concern from the floor, with grumbling and evident upset echoing through both rooms. Diana Mejia, a delegate from Colombia, expressed audible anger with a look of resentment, having spent two weeks of long hours debating for those very missing words. “This was meant to be the COP of adaptation,” she stated, arguing that the outcome “falls far short of reflecting the magnitude of the challenges that parties—especially the most vulnerable—are confronting on the ground.” Directly addressing Do Lago, Mejia continued, “You are leaving us with no other choice but to object,” and emphatically, “This is the COP of truth and trust. You are leaving us with no other option after the procedural issues seen in this plenary.” Her impassioned speech was met with a vivacious, loud round of applause from both Tocantins and Amazonas.
And with that, COP30 was, once again, suspended—this time for consultation over a fiery objection.
Another hour of apprehensive waiting passed. The rain still drummed the tent while delegates anxiously stayed as long as they could, hoping not to miss their flights. President Do Lago finally reopened the meeting, declaring that, following extensive consultation, the final document had been gaveled through—a document pointedly devoid of any fossil fuel phaseout. Hundreds, if not thousands, responded with a collective groan, a sound that underscored that a plan for phasing out fossil fuels would not be cemented in Brazil but pushed down the road to COP31 in Antalya, Turkey. Russia was displeased with how Colombia handled the situation, suggesting their behavior was childish.
While some attendees hurriedly left, driven by frustration or urgent flight schedules, a truly historic intervention by Do Lago could have halted their departure—an unprecedented move for any COP president. Defying the consensus-based nature of thirty years of COP meetings, he committed to forming a working group (outside of the UN process) of over 85 willing countries dedicated to forging a “fossil fuel phaseout” roadmap. With raucous applause, Do Lago publicly endorsed Colombia’s proposal for the world’s first Global Fossil Fuel Phase-Out Conference in April 2026 in Santa Marta, Colombia.
Across the United States, a growing movement already supports a Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty to serve as the roadmap (the piece to bring about global climate governance). Hundreds of US university professors, youth groups, religious organizations, cities, and even states have formally endorsed it. For instance, Hawaii’s legislature adopted a resolution in 2022 calling for the state and county to “provide an international mechanism to advance a fast and fair phase-out of fossil fuel production in line with both the Paris Agreement and United Nations Sustainable Development Goals.” Noting, “Fossil fuels are by far the largest contributor to climate change.” In 2023, under Gavin Newsom, California approved a resolution with similar wording but also urged the U.S. government to join the global community in formally developing such a treaty. In 2024, Maine created a comparable resolution to both Hawaii and California.
Inevitably, a shift in U.S. power will occur. The pendulum eventually swings the other way. Should that shift place someone like California’s Governor Gavin Newsom and his appointees at the helm, we may witness the United States leading a perilous charge into climate change globalism. This new era could be characterized by technocratic and experimental policies that not only jeopardize economic stability but could also threaten to plunge society into a modern ‘dark age’ kingdom, where traditional values and individual liberties are overshadowed by authoritarian governance. The consequences could be far-reaching, impacting not only domestic policy but also international relations, economic stability, and the fundamental rights of citizens. It is essential that we remain vigilant.
The closing session ended at almost 9pm after giving more country delegates, indigenous groups, and NGOs like ICLEI up to five minutes each to share support and/or disagreement about the conference and the decisions. So repetitive, with many people saying the same thing. It was so past time to leave. Alas, André Corrêa do Lago laid down the last gavel and officially closed COP30. As we exited the COP building, we encountered a line of bombeiros standing at attention, resembling a military formation. Neatly arranged on both sides of the hall, they remained perfectly still, facing forward, with red, shiny fire extinguishers placed at their feet. The reason for their presence was unclear, adding an air of mystery to the final scene.
Upon completion of COP30, participants received an email from the UNFCCC proposing convention-goers offset their COP30-related global warming impact. It directed them to an “offsetting portal” where “each participant can estimate their carbon footprint,” thus “strengthening the culture of climate responsibility among visitors and delegations.” Once the carbon footprint’s dollar amount was tabulated, a fossil fuel credit card could help forward those funds to a United Nations-approved project.