Production, Development, and Environmental Policies: Paradoxical Landscapes in Colonia Aborigen Chaco (Ex-Aboriginal Reserve of Napalpí, Argentina)

Indigenous peoples need a proper demarcation of Traditional Territories. Traditional Territories are the basis for exercising the collective rights of consultation and consent, and for negotiating the contents of the right to lands and natural resources recognized by the Indigenous Peoples Basic Law. The demarcation would have supported Indigenous peoples to tell their land stories, to denounce the historical injustice, and to practice their customary law. It would have bridged the gap between Indigenous peoples and the state, and between Indigenous peoples and non-Indigenous society for mutual understanding and reconciliation. This chapter, however, shows how controversial are the Demarcation Regulations issued by the Council of Indigenous Peoples. The author argues that the Regulations ignore the diversity and significance of Traditional Territories and merely focus on a fixed boundary. Therefore, it is inconsistent with historical fact or Indigenous customary law. The Regulations also confine Indigenous Traditional Territories only to public lands because the Council of Indigenous Peoples wants to prevent private property rights from the infringement by Indigenous consultation and consent rights. As a result, it is misleading to imagine Traditional Territories and private property as mutually exclusive. The tension between Indigenous collective rights and property rights is also exaggerated.

The Media and Indigenous Policy Report is an outcome of 'The Australian News Media and Indigenous Policymaking 1988-2008' project, funded by an ARC Discovery Project grant. It investigated how journalism impacts on the development of Indigenous social policy. Analysis of media and policy texts, and interviews with experts from government, media and Indigenous advocacy organisations provided rich insights into the changing nature of news media reporting and the impact of increasingly ‘mediatized’ policymaking practice. The project explored the relationships between journalism and Indigenous policymaking in Australia from 1988 to 2008. The researchers investigated the media representation of Indigenous health, education and communication, and the development of Indigenous policies over a 20-year period. Through analyses of policy documents, media releases, speeches and media texts, the researchers mapped the changing nature of Indigenous policy and its representation in public media. They interviewed journalists, public spokespeople and policymakers to examine processes involved in the shifting nature and reporting of Indigenous policy in Australia.

Every country institutes policy to take a course of action in favour of its citizens’ welfare. The view of indigenization policy in alignment with employment and workers treatment in Liberia takes different dimension. Liberia problem of unemployment cannot be compared to its underemployment and bad working conditions. The Liberian Indigenous policy has not reaped its fruit with marginalization, exploitation dispossession and poverty in commonplace. This study addresses the ineffectiveness of the indigenous employment policy and the state of workers’ well-being in foreign corporations in Liberia. This study adopts cross sectional method, and employs primary data. Information from 400 employees working with foreign-owned corporation was extracted from survey conducted in 2018 by the authors on the state of welfare of foreign-owned corporations’ employees in Liberia. The key explanatory variables are healthcare, social insurance, safety measures, stable job assignment, stable work hour, promotion on the job, and job security. The binary logistic regression was applied using version 22 of SPSS to examine association between the response and explanatory variables. The outcomes of this study showed that indigenous environmental policy was significant with worker’s well-being (p<0.05). The study concluded that indigenous employment policy has significant influence on the foreign-owned corporation workers’ well-being in Liberia.

This paper seeks to deal with the advance of Covid-19 in indigenous territories in Brazil, whether urban or rural. To do so, we have gone through a general analysis of the Brazilian government's indigenous policies, comparing bulletins and data from the Special Secretariat of Indigenous Health—Secretaria Especial de Saúde Indígena, an agency linked to the Ministry of Health, as well as data from the Articulation of Indigenous Peoples of Brazil, the main Brazilian indigenous political movement. Furthermore, we systematize strategies that have been developed and executed by some indigenous peoples in Brazil, undertaken by an exploratory analysis of manifestations of indigenous leaders on the internet, along with actions in the legal sphere, as well as, actions in the indigenous territory. Finally, the monoepistemic character of public policies on the issue is problematized.

"Advances in Environmental Law" is a ground-breaking exploration of the ever-evolving field of environmental jurisprudence, providing a comprehensive examination of key themes such as Environmental Law, Climate Law, European Law, Globalization, Indigenous Peoples, Right to Clean Environment, Environmental Litigation, Clean Energy, Sustainable Development, and Environmental Policy. Authored by leading experts in the field, this book serves as a vital resource for legal professionals, policymakers, academics, and anyone passionate about the intersection of law and environmental sustainability. Foreworded by eminent and high stature legal scientist, Prof. Dr. Anatoly Getman, who is State honoured esteemed Rector of Ukraine’s the only National Law University in the name of Yaroslav the Wise, this book begins by dissecting the foundations of Environmental Law, offering a detailed analysis of international and domestic legal frameworks that shape environmental governance. It delves into the intricate web of treaties, conventions, and agreements that guide nations in their commitment to preserving the planet's health. A significant focus is placed on Climate Law, exploring the legal mechanisms designed to address the urgent challenges of climate change. The book navigates through international climate agreements, domestic legislation, and the role of environmental courts in shaping policies aimed at mitigating and adapting to the impacts of a changing climate. In the context of European Law, the book investigates the specific legal frameworks within the European Union that govern environmental protection and sustainability. It explores landmark cases and legislative developments that have shaped the continent's approach to ecological conservation and climate action. Globalization emerges as a key theme, with the book scrutinizing the legal implications of interconnected economies on environmental practices. It addresses the challenges and opportunities presented by the globalized nature of environmental issues, emphasizing the need for transnational cooperation and legal instruments. Indigenous Peoples' rights and their role in environmental governance are explored in depth, recognizing the unique perspectives and contributions of indigenous communities in environmental conservation. The book critically examines legal frameworks that safeguard indigenous knowledge and territories. The Right to a Clean Environment is a fundamental principle underpinning the book's exploration. It discusses the evolution of this right and its implications for legal systems worldwide, emphasizing its role in shaping environmental policies and promoting justice. Environmental Litigation is scrutinized as a powerful tool for advocacy and accountability. The book analyses landmark environmental cases, shedding light on the role of the judiciary in influencing environmental policies and holding violators accountable. Clean Energy and Sustainable Development are discussed in the context of legal frameworks that promote the transition to environmentally friendly practices. The book examines the role of law in incentivizing clean energy initiatives and fostering sustainable development. Environmental Policy is a recurring theme throughout the book, with a focus on the development, implementation, and evaluation of policies aimed at addressing pressing environmental challenges. Thus, the "Advances in Environmental Law" is a timely and authoritative work that not only captures the current state of environmental jurisprudence but also paves the way for future developments in the field. With its interdisciplinary approach and emphasis on global perspectives, this book is an invaluable resource for anyone seeking a deeper understanding of the intricate interplay between law, the environment, and sustainable development.

In 1951 landowners and their thugs launched an attack on the Xavante Indians in the village of Parabubu in northeastern Mato Grosso. Parabubu was one of several Xavante villages in the region between the Couto Magalhães and Culuene rivers not yet peacefully contacted, or “pacified,” by the Brazilian government. A seminomadic and warrior nation of the Gê lingustic group, the Xavante had shunned contact with outsiders for a century, killing those who encroached upon their territory (see figure 1).1 Coveting Xavante land, the landowners resolved to “pacify” the Indians as they saw fit. In the raid several Indians were killed, scores were wounded, and houses were burned.2The Xavante would scatter in search of assistance. Some of the communities fled hundreds of miles westward to the Simões Lopes and Batovi posts administered by the government Indian bureau, Serviço de Proteção aos Índios (hereafter SPI). Others would find safety at the missions of Sangradouro and São Marcos operated by the Salesians, who arrived in Mato Grosso several decades earlier to Christianize indigenous people. The landowners succeeded in their endeavors: by 1958 the entire Xavante population of the Couto Magalhães-Culuene region had been driven into exile.Like other Brazilian indigenous groups, the post-contact history of the Xavante has been marked by death, dispossession, and despair. It is, sadly, a commonplace that Amazonian Indians have been the victims of twentieth- century frontier expansion and economic development.3 This article, however, explores a concomitant outgrowth of such trauma: indigenous mobilization, galvanized under Brazilian military rule, to recover ancestral lands. During the 1970s the Xavante waged a relentless battle to reclaim their territory in the Couto Magalhães-Culuene region, since occupied and deforested by cattle ranchers, land speculators, and small colonists.4 Their struggle was not unique; it mirrored that of other indigenous communities who have pressured the Brazilian government to create or enlarge reserves and expel invaders.5 However, the effort at Couto Magalhães-Culuene is rather remarkable because indigenous people entirely banished from, rather than encircled within, pre-contact lands attempted to recover usurped territory.6 This essay revisits the historical stage on which the Xavante battle was fought.Although anthropologists and sociologists have produced illuminating studies of Brazilian Indians, historical research on indigenous people remains embryonic.7 The marginalization of Indians subsequent to the early colonial period within Brazilian historical narrative and analysis reflects the broader tradition in which native Americans have been cast as bygone relics or folkloric curiosities rather than as ongoing products and producers of historical outcomes. The lacuna derives from trends more specific to Brazilian historiography as well. The myth of racial democracy celebrating racial mixture and harmony in lustering Brazilian sociocultural formation, although debunked by researchers, undoubtedly managed to obscure or romanticize the realities of indigenous peoples, as it has elsewhere in Latin America.8 Moreover, for the postcolonial period, historical research has overwhelmingly focused on the northeastern and southeastern regions, due to their political, economic, demographic, and intellectual preponderance in shaping national development. The central-western and northern/Amazonian regions—home to the majority of the nation’s small native population of approximately 300,000—have been given short shrift, rendering indigenous history less visible. In recent years a number of scholars have sought to retrieve the Brazilian indigenous experience from the dustbin of history, revisiting the archives in order to reincorporate the disappeared into regional and national narratives.9This essay seeks to focus further Brazil’s blurred indigenous past, centering Xavante political mobilization within an analytical purview of longstanding interest to historians: the processes of capital accumulation and state formation. Indeed, the incorporation of indigenous populations and territories into the nation-state in the context of Amazonian frontier expansion was fundamental to the growth of Brazil’s regional and national economy and its emergence as a continental power in the late twentieth century. To wit, Brazilian frontier expansion has been marked by contested physical and political terrain, mediated by violence, bureaucracy, and the law.10 As the Xavantes’ struggle will elucidate, the fate of indigenous lands and communities in Amazonia evolved out of the conflicts and negotiations among state officials, indigenous peoples, local elites, peasants and squatters, church leaders, members of civil society and international human rights groups—a dynamic interplay that shifted with the transition from democratic to military rule, and from one authoritarian period to another.Under the military governments, the consolidation of state power in once peripheral areas, such as Mato Grosso, dramatically transformed indigenous communities. The primitive accumulation embodied in the attack at Parabubu— countenanced by local and national governments nested within and reproducing capitalist social relations—would give way to systematic federal-backed assaults entailing fiscal incentives to corporate investors, road-building projects, and national security operations. Yet if the basic logic of frontier appropriation persisted, the political rules for indigenous peoples varied significantly. Indians, legal wards of the federal government, endeavored to benefit from fortified state power, enlisting the backing of their beefed up—if untrustworthy— “guardian” to protect their communities. The Xavante certainly were victims of capitalist accumulation on the expanding western frontier, but in manipulating, challenging, and amending the Amazonian developmental policies of the military government, indigenous people may be seen as victors as well.The Parabubu massacre and the surrender of ancestral territory in the Couto Magalhães-Culuene region revealed the shortcomings of the SPI, entrusted with the protection of indigenous communities and lands. Although the Brazilian Constitution of 1946 guaranteed indigenous people territorial possession where they were “permanently located,” several factors impeded effective enforcement. Whether strapped for funds, hobbled by poor infrastructure, undermined by corrupt or ineffectual bureaucrats, or confronted by hostile Indians, the SPI foundered in its mission to defend indigenous communities.11 Furthermore, the federal government faced fierce resistance from local elites under Brazil’s then-democratic political system.State governments were granted dominion over unoccupied public land (terra devoluta) since the Constitution of 1891, and knowingly or unwittingly transacted indigenous land as public land.12 The ambiguous legal status of indigenous lands facilitated such sleight-of-hand: until the federal government reserved indigenous land, Indians were de facto occupants of terra devoluta. Although the SPI regularly appealed to state governments to honor indigenous territory, its cries went unheeded. In fact, jurisdictional overlaps and poorly-defined competences between national and subnational government, such as those concerning indigenous lands, facilitated the bargaining and shifting alliances that undergirded Brazilian democratic politics between 1946 and 1964.13In less economically developed regions, such as Mato Grosso, public (and indigenous) land sales filled state coffers, rewarded political clientele, and cemented electoral support. In 1956 the state governor turned away Xavante refugees seeking assistance who arrived in the capital, Cuiabá, accompanied by a local landowner.14 Indeed, the state of Mato Grosso sold off most of the Xavante land in the Couto Magalhães-Culuene region between 1958 and 1960. A contingent of five Xavante Indians who returned to the Couto Magalhães region from the Salesian mission in 1961 were consigned to a miserable patch of land in their former homeland.15Indian policy would be overhauled by the military government following the 1964 coup in its drive to develop Amazônia Legal (Legal Amazon), an area of over five million kilometers occupying nearly two-thirds of Brazilian territory, including northern Mato Grosso.16 With its sparse population, precarious infrastructure, indefensible international borders, and tenuous links to Brazil’s economic and demographic core, Amazonia was long viewed by military officials as vulnerable to foreign invasion and communist infiltration. To protect and develop the vast interior, national security doctrine prioritized territorial integration through extensive transportation and communication networks, colonization, agricultural modernization, and effective utilization of natural resources.17The expansion of agricultural production into Brazil’s last frontier, the Amazon, was upheld as a springboard for economic growth and industrial output. Indeed, the military championed agricultural “rationalization” as the means to overcome food crises and economic bottlenecks of the early 1960s, promote cheaper food for cities, new markets for industry, and sustained growth through export diversification. Amazonian colonization would further serve to stem increased rural to urban migration while circumventing agrarian reform.18The military’s Amazonian development strategy would entail an alliance between the state and private capital that shifted patterns of surplus appropriation in the region. In 1966 the military enacted legislation stipulating a series of tax breaks and fiscal incentives to corporate investors in Amazônia Legal. Projects approved by the Superintendência da Amazônia (hereafter SUDAM)— the superintendency entrusted with coordinating and executing federal policy in the Legal Amazon—qualified for financing at low interest rates of up to 75 percent of their value by the Banco de Amazônia (hereafter BASA). Up to 50 percent of tax revenues incurred elsewhere in Brazil could be deducted for investment in agricultural, ranching, and industrial ventures in the Amazon; all SUDAM-backed projects established in Amazônia Legal before 1982 would enjoy 50 percent exemption on income tax while those founded before 1972 (later extended to 1975) were completely exempt.19 Between 1968 and 1975, extra-regional interests held 95 percent of all tax-credit options in Amazônia Legal—with São Paulo-based corporations accounting for 60 percent— signaling the extension of industrial and financial capital into the frontier.20The developmental model promoted by the military government unleashed an onslaught on Xavante territory, which lay within Amazônia Legal. Between 1966 and 1970 SUDAM approved 66 projects for cattle ranches in the northern matogrossense counties of Barra do Garças (home to the Xavante) and Luciara alone.21 Furthermore, between 1969 and 1973 the federal government invested heavily in the construction and maintenance of two highways linking Brasília to Cuiabá and Santarém, which facilitated transportation in northern and eastern Mato Grosso.22Yet for investors streaming into Mato Grosso and other areas of Amazônia Legal, the vastness of the region matched its complications: land titles were often imprecise, fraudulent, and superimposed (often multilayered); they were also contested by indigenous people, peasants, and even small towns.23 The military governments, pressured by multilateral lending institutions to regularize rural land titles as a prerequisite for economic investment and growth, would show greater resolve than their democratic predecessors in demarcating indigenous lands.24 Moreover, military officials worried that as long as demarcation languished the region remained prone to social conflict.25Aside from economic and strategic concerns, worldwide condemnation of Brazilian indigenous policy weighed on the military as well. In March 1968, Attorney General Jader Figueiredo publicized an investigation of the SPI that revealed atrocities committed against indigenous peoples.26 Although the military vowed to right past wrongs of the public sector—dismantling the SPI and creating the Fundação Nacional do Índio (hereafter FUNAI) in December 1967—many domestic and international critics of the military’s Amazonian policy were far from swayed. A worldwide uproar ensued, as the foreign press accused the Brazilian government of continuing to practice or condoning genocide. Seeking to “remove the indigenous problem from the headlines of Brazilian and foreign newspapers,” Minister of the Interior Albuquerque Lima met in July 1968 and April 1969 with the Xavante, Bororo, Karajá, and various Xingu communities to reiterate state determination to demarcate indigenous lands.27The president of FUNAI, José Queirós Campos, concurred, but noted that decades-old promises to the Xavante would not be easy to fulfill in the name of justice, economic growth, or foreign relations. Xavante territory had been all but sold off and titleholders showed “systematic opposition” towards FUNAI and the Indians.28 The exiles from Couto Magalhães-Culuene, for example, would have to contend with Fazenda Xavantina, a 109,922-hectare cattle ranch established on their ancestral land by two North Americans who amalgamated eleven properties between 1966 and 1968; in 1969, the fazenda was sold to General Clóvis Ribeiro Cintra, head of a Paraná-based transportation firm, Amurada Planning and Engineering, Inc.29 Furthermore, there were scores of medium- and small-sized landholdings in the region. To recover their lands, the Xavante faced a formidable challenge. So did the state in seeking to balance its commitment to the economic development and occupation of the Legal Amazon with its commitment to reserve indigenous lands.The Brazilian bureaucratic authoritarian regime sought to centralize power and restrict political participation, replacing populist as well as traditional politicians with a cadre of military officers, economists, engineers, and professional administrators entrusted with formulating and executing state policy. Through numerous “institutional” and “complementary acts,” the military strengthened the executive while weakening the legislature, and fortified the federal over subnational governments. In a sweeping fiscal reform package enacted in 1966 (later incorporated into the 1967 constitution), the military government increased the federal share of public service revenue from 63.9 percent to 72.9 percent between 1965 and 1975.30For indigenous people, wards of the federal government, the impact of such reforms was far-reaching. The Constitution of 1967, for example, defined Indian lands as federal territory, preempting the convoluted process (which the SPI faced) whereby Indians would be granted permanent and inalienable possession of their lands only after disaggregation from terra devoluta by local state governments. Furthermore, a 1969 constitutional amendment nullified deeds issued to Indian land and denied property indemnification to the titleholder.31 FUNAI’s broader legal jurisdiction, greater infrastructural capability, and stronger financial muscle meant that the demarcation of Indian lands would no longer depend overwhelmingly on the caprice of local politicians compromised by electoral deals and vested interests. Like the federal agencies entrusted with rural development, colonization, and road building, FUNAI embodied the growing hegemony of the state over the Amazonian frontier (and the countryside in general), and its efforts to foster capitalist growth and social consensus through bureaucratic administration.32For indigenous people, the state’s increased presence in the countryside penetrated like a double-edged sword. The Estatuto do Índio, adopted by the military government in 1973, obliged FUNAI to delimit all indigenous land within five years. The law, however, also sanctioned the relocation of Indians by presidential decree for the sake of “national development,” and allowed the state to contract third parties for mining on indigenous land.33 By promoting private investment, colonization, and transportation networks in the Amazon, the military would intensify invasion and environmental degradation of indigenous land. Indeed, the subordination of FUNAI to the Ministry of the Interior, which spearheaded the economic development devastating indigenous communities, spoke volumes. But in championing demarcation of indigenous territory and streamlining the process, the military state broke political ground for Indians to stake their claims.34 That the new and ambiguous rules of the game, then, might redound to the Xavantes’ benefit depended, in no small part, upon indigenous forbearance and ingenuity. For as the ongoing battle waged over indigenous reservations during the decade of the 1970s illustrates, the Xavante had something very different in mind than landowners or the state regarding the fate of their territory.In 1969 the Ministry of the Interior had allayed fazendeiros’ fears in the county of Barra do Garças by outlining plans for future Xavante reserves: “FUNAI is clarifying that in accord with the thought of the Minister [of Interior], the areas to be reserved for the Indians … will not prejudice the property of third parties, especially where there are agricultural/ranching and industrial properties.”35 That same year, in a meeting with representatives of the Association of Amazonian Entrepreneurs, Minister of Interior General Costa Cavalcanti declared: “the Indian has to remain with the minimum necessary.”36Expanded state power in Mato Grosso resulted in the decree of five Xavante reserves in 1972. And just as the military had promised, the indigenous territories were inadequate in size and quality. The Xavante at Couto Magalhães, for example, received 23,000 hectares of poor land. No territory at all was reserved for communities whose traditional lands lay nearer the Culuene river. From their once extensive homeland in the Couto Magalhães-Culuene region, the Xavante had received a pittance.State officials placed faith in “scientific processes”—technological uplift and the lure of the market—to persuade the Indians to set aside land claims. In a report to superiors in October 1971, FUNAI encarregado José Carlos Alves waxed ecstatic about the “advanced process of assimilation” of the community of seventy-six Xavante residing in the Couto Magalhães region under “chief ” Benedito Loazo (who had led back the original five Xavante in 1961). Alves celebrated the Indians’ proficiency in Portuguese, their and their Although that had nearly between the Indians that they were in the and the of the Fazenda Xavantina, Alves aside indigenous territorial for a to Xavante in and construction and in With an to Indians are and all FUNAI do to in will be and will one further for state officials and who that the Xavante would to territorial and legal would be In Xavante from the São Marcos mission to the reserve at Couto by the of the mission a FUNAI accompanied by a Salesian and a Xavante from the Indians to the Couto Magalhães reserve by the the Xavante faced a in food and In December the at Couto Magalhães, whose model Indians had been a over their with the new the other Xavante communities went on the as well. their out strategic on to and to the government to or enlarge indigenous For example, at the Sangradouro Xavante two ranches that to cattle the at the the Xavante from who to the while fears of Xavantes’ of or that Xavante communities, at to but to Indeed, president of the Barra do Garças the state that the Xavante that they are in that the foreign through their the Brazilian government to resolve the problem of their the Xavante had once their territory through two decades of subordination to Brazilian society a new strategy to reclaim political political and by the military government, the Xavantes’ in state policy. lay in the military through bureaucratic violence, and domestic and international lay in and the power of a state only two decades the Xavante of Couto Magalhães that their lands to the the FUNAI they had General Clóvis Ribeiro Cintra, head of Fazenda Xavantina, a to the Ministry of the Interior in a that had two years earlier with Costa Cavalcanti and FUNAI de a the ranch had hectares to enlarge the Couto Magalhães under This would FUNAI to the small Xavante community residing in the In the ranch received a a that the land did not upon indigenous territory, to SUDAM fiscal Although the was to indigenous land in practice its rewarded military in the Legal Amazon and as a of bureaucratic FUNAI’s of a to the Fazenda to a between 1969 and FUNAI would to titleholders whose lands lay within Xavante pre-contact territory in the Couto Magalhães-Culuene from the by the ranch would approximately head of cattle on hectares of and one hectares of kilometers of road had been and more than kilometers was by and a and food and an between and two and their on to as of the FUNAI had to future Xavante migration to the at Couto Magalhães were to be at Benedito Fazenda upon the under Benedito whose village lay kilometers from its had to do with for it efforts to the of by to the Indians from cattle or territorial to land by the Xavante the Indians to small or new in Mato Grosso would not surrender landowners certainly had more to in the government the from the indigenous the problem from the Fazenda also upon to a and to the Xavante to and and Indians to for the Xavante, however, as the Indians would to and bureaucratic In December 1973, a of Xavante the Batovi region where they had years earlier and returned to their pre-contact territory the Culuene on the western of Fazenda the 1972 the government had to create a reserve for the Indians in the Culuene region. The of the Xavante landowners and who had since as well as FUNAI officials who pressured the Indians to In a to the FUNAI in Cuiabá spoke of the Xavantes’ of in Culuene the they were of the of such upon FUNAI officials their to the Xavante at from Culuene went to Brasília to their at FUNAI The of General for a allowed the Xavante to at Culuene until in to with their to Xavante reserve on the The It was not that the exiles were to their ancestral not all of the Xavante from Batovi returned to the within the Xavante nation and a history of longstanding against the community at against FUNAI in the Xavante to at certainly other indigenous groups, such as the to the Xingu in to the way for the construction of the more the in the historical experience of Brazilian indigenous to regional and economic then, remain most a established in the Culuene region, the Xavante new In March from the Simões to Culuene the entire village at With the population in the Culuene region by 1975, the for territory and the Xavante up their on FUNAI to demarcate a new of indigenous reserve in their state Mato Grosso officials the of federal they had the federal incentives that investment to the The Barra do Garças that the county one with the of reserve for the Xavante, the state’s indigenous The of Barra do to in that the of a reserve at Culuene would investors given the by the government towards to federal officials in fact, one strategy to the of a To the Indians and local FUNAI officials, of in their As a Mato Grosso politicians and to an area in the Culuene region. federal on of the Indians, elites cast as the local of the rural of had been from their very to By against the Xavante, sought to the of a of By there were within the area of the Culuene the power of Mato Grosso to in their through and had since the attack at In July a of federal officials from FUNAI and the Nacional de (hereafter the of and the to To federal the Xavante, with the of the headlines by a to the and to April the its report outlining the of the Culuene The Indians had approved the of the yet their government In with the Xavante, the was that they would not the

The Austronesian language-speaking peoples had been autonomously living in Taiwan for thousands of years before the coming of colonisers in the seventeenth century. Even though the colonisers changed over time, Indigenous peoples continually faced the pressure of land grabbing from state power and increasing settler population. The enactment of the Indigenous Peoples Basic Law in 2005 and the apology to Indigenous peoples made by President Tsai Ing-wen in 2016 seems to represent the success of Taiwan’s Indigenous movement in the past two decades; however, the consequent backlash against the delineation and declaration of Indigenous traditional territory frustrated the Indigenous society again. Aiming to reveal the de-colonial struggle, and seek for a real reconciliation, this chapter sets out to (1) retrace the Indigenous land policies in different colonial periods, and point out the injustice in the political/economic process; (2) describe the transition of the Indigenous land movement that appeared in 1980s, and the gradual institutionalisation of ‘Indigenous traditional territory’ in the legal system after 2000; (3) analyse recent debates over the Regulations for the Delineation of Indigenous Traditional Territory, and the conflicts after the Thao people’s traditional territory was declared; and (4) reveal the spatiality of settler colonialism. In the end, the author makes suggestions for deconstructing the settler colonial space, so that a better institutional arrangement can be made, and the mutual benefit between Indigenous/non-Indigenous can be achieved.

As políticas públicas para os povos indígenas no Brasil têm passado por diversas mudanças nas últimas duas décadas. Após o fim da ditadura militar e com a redemocratização, inicia-se um processo de diversificação das políticas indigenistas. Como parte deste processo, o Programa Carteira Indígena, em vigência desde 2004, objetiva a promoção da segurança alimentar e o desenvolvimento sustentável nos territórios indígenas, tendo a Agroecologia como um de seus princípios de atuação. O presente artigo analisa as percepções dos atores sociais envolvidos na implementação de projetos do Programa Carteira Indígena a partir de um estudo de caso em duas Terras Indígenas da Baixada Santista, no Estado de São Paulo. Nesta perspectiva, o Programa surge como uma oportunidade de desenvolvimento para esses povos, ao mesmo tempo que faz emergir um conjunto de novos problemas para que as políticas públicas tenham maior coerência e integração e possibilitem a construção de alternativas efetivas para a gestão sustentável dos territórios indígenas.

What are the trends and challenges for political science research on Indigenous policy and politics? The present paper aims to answer this question through a critical reading of articles published in specialized journals between 2019 and 2023. The study highlights four main axes of research on Indigenous politics: 1) The relationship between Indigenous peoples and nation-states; 2) Indigenous activism and struggles for territorial, cultural, and environmental rights; 3) The impact of large construction sites on Indigenous territories; and 4) Critical engagement with Western political theory. Conclusions point to epistemic avenues for interested researchers to explore in-depth in future studies: 1) The importance of broadening the scope of sources for more fruitful comparative analyses; 2) The urgency to decolonize political theory; and 3) The imperative of methodological diversification and rigor.

ABSTRACTLocal economic development and environmental policy are two areas that are undeniably linked. While a great deal of research highlights the need to marry these two concepts in practice, much remains unknown about what cities are doing at that intersection. This article uses two recent International City/County Management Association (ICMA) surveys to explore the patterns that exist between local economic development policy and local environmental protection policy. The findings here suggest that localities have begun to make the connection between sustainability and economic development. However, the connection is constrained by economic context, level of economic competition, and whether a sustainability policy offers co‐benefit potential.

Computable general equilibrium model analysis of economywide cross effects of social and environmental policies in Chile

Homesteading and Property Rights; Or, "How the West Was Really Won"

SUMMARYPapua New Guinea (PNG) has been the site of a great deal of scientific work, and a fair amount of interdisciplinary debate, within the broad field of historical ecology, which encompasses the study of indigenous society-environment relationships over different time periods. However, this in itself provides no guarantee that scientists engaged in such debate will have a greater influence on the formulation of environmental conservation policies in a state where indigenous decision makers now hold the levers of political power. Five environmental policy paradigms which have emerged in the course of public debate about environmental conservation in PNG over the past half century; the wildlife management, environmental planning, biodiversity conservation, ecosystem assessment, and carbon sequestration paradigms. Each paradigm has framed a distinctive form of interdisciplinary debate about indigenous society-environment relationships within a contemporary political framework. However, a further connection can be drawn between the role of interdisciplinary debate in an evolving national policy framework and the history of scientific debate about the nature of indigenous society-environment relationships in the pre-colonial era. This connection places a distinctive emphasis on the relationship between indigenous agricultural practices and management of the national forest estate for reasons which are themselves a contingent effect of the nature of European colonial intervention over the course of the last century and a half. This particular bias in the relationship between historical ecology and environmental policy has lasted down to the present day. PNG's environmental policy problems are unlikely to have any rational or sensible solution in the absence of a better scientific understanding of the complexity of indigenous society-environment relationships. Scientists need to understand the complexity of the environmental policy process as a historical process in its own right in order to work out which policy problems offer both the scope and the incentive to sustain specific forms of interdisciplinary debate that are likely to produce better policy outcomes.

These companion books are the dual product of a conference held at the Australian National University in 2013 entitled “Local Intermediaries in International Exploration.” The first collection emphasizes the archival issues and possibilities involved in looking for, and understanding, Indigenous intermediaries in the history of exploration. The second emphasizes the utility of the localized, biographic method for drawing out the agency of such people in fresh ways, given the slanted and complicated archives left to us. The pair works well to add to our store of knowledge regarding the Indigenous guides, translators, cooks, entertainers, and hosts that were integral to all missions of so-called discovery in the Austral-Pacific between the late eighteenth and early twentieth centuries.The introduction to the first volume refutes any easy assumption that exploration archives inevitably hide the history of Indigenous people. At the same time, though, it is careful to acknowledge that recovery work involves more than the application of a scholarly “trowel” (2015, 8). Sometimes we have to add to an archive, the editors explain, by supplementing it with oral histories, environmental knowledge, and even sometimes creative practices. The result will always be uneven, but at least more substantive than once thought. The introduction to the second volume flags its methodological debt to the first, mostly adding here the case for how the local and especially the biographical are useful ways in to thinking through the complex records that remain.The editors define “intermediary” as a figure who “articulates relationships between disparate worlds” (2015, 2). They are less clear in defining “Indigenous.” The assembled chapters suggest that an Indigenous person is a non-European who confronts European empires—a somewhat vague notion that will in future scholarship surely demand more refinement. By implication, an “explorer” is a European: usually male, usually focused on territorial discovery, and usually backed by official or elite authority.In the first volume, Indigenous Intermediaries, the most compelling chapters to me are those by Felix Driver, Maria Nugent, Tiffany Shellam, and Harriet Parsons. Driver offers several illuminating case studies, the most interesting from the archives of the Royal Geographical Society. Curating a selection from the RGS archives for a 2009 exhibition, Driver realized that recovering Indigenous intermediaries involved more than just flinging back shrouds. Instead, he had to add to the fragments where appropriate—for example, a Songhees (Coast Salish) intermediary from North America called Cheealthluc, photographed in perplexing naval uniform, appears differently when the self-styled military portraits of Kurringgai man Bungaree from Australia are added to the analysis. Both Nugent and Shellam offer good examples of how to walk Driver's suggested “fine line between … salvage biography and critical history” (25). Nugent delves into the fragments on Jacky Jacky, who accompanied E. B. Kennedy's 1848 expedition to Cape York, and Shellam surveys the traces of Bungaree and those of two Noongar men in early nineteenth-century maritime expeditions. Both authors reveal complicated Indigenous histories reverberating around European exploration, though both also remain wary of overstating the accessibility of Indigenous agency.Parsons's chapter studies British-Ra‘iatean collaborative drawing in the 1760s. She tackles not just the navigational and diplomatic contributions of the Ra‘iatean leader Tupaia to Cook's first voyage, which has only in recent years been given proper attention, but also the frequent oversimplification of Cook's own creativity. By picking apart the British copy of Tupaia's map of Oceania, Parsons shows how both Britons and at least one Ra‘iatean were deeply engaged in figuring each other out, often in graphic form on paper if not in words, and how both were changed by the effort.The second volume, Brokers and Boundaries, contains especially interesting chapters by Mark Dunn, Allison Cadzow, Dario Di Rosa, and Chris Ballard. Dunn exemplifies some of the amazing recovery work of these two books, investigating five Australian Indigenous guides on expeditions though the Hunter Valley in the early nineteenth century. Cadzow focuses on two women associates on expeditions in the 1830s—less obscure but in many ways also underanalyzed because gender dynamics in exploration history are rarely considered from any angle. Cadzow's chapter contains more (welcomed) historiographic discussion than others in this volume. Her conclusions point to a specific woman-centered kind of diplomacy—surely another notion to ponder further in future studies.Di Rosa (and to some extent the following chapter by Andrew Connelly) provides intriguing examples of intra-Indigenous communication during European expeditions, which is a feature too often lost in our fascination for “both-sides-of-the-beach” analysis. Di Rosa demonstrates the ways in which the Europeans on board the 1840s HMS Fly excursion to the Papuan Gulf relied so heavily on Erubian informants that they internalized specifically Erubian stereotypes of nearby Papuans. Knowledge from exploratory expeditions certainly was coproduced by all involved.Ballard keeps us in Papua but turns to later expeditions. In many ways, he brings us back to the problem of the archive broached by the first volume. He takes a discursive approach to the narratives left behind, figuring both the European explorer and the Indigenous intermediaries (for him, generously defined) as effects of these texts rather than objects standing behind them. As the final chapter to the final volume, Ballard throws some of the foregoing discussions of “agency” into some confusion. The generally eclectic feel of the twin set, however, makes this move appear more a productive provocation than any kind of disavowal.Both volumes contain important work by Indigenous scholars. The chapters by Shino Konishi, Clint Bracknell, and Len Collard anchor the others, especially the illuminating dialogue between Collard and his interlocutor Dave Palmer. Collard's insistence on using many Noongar words to sum up the work of these twenty-one chapters underscores the volumes' consistent effort to find fresh ways into old histories. He explains that his presentation at least draws on “katitjin Noongar (interpreting the ‘evidence’ using Noongar ways of thinking)” (2015, 190). Collard writes that “some Western-trained historians might not always accept the evidentiary strength of this approach.” He continues, “What is important here is that we are trying to move in and out of these traditions, Noongar and non-Noongar history-making” (2015, 191).

The article incites the reader to revisit the history of the occupation of the Mato Grosso do Sul territory. It casts an eye on the concepts of power and violence that pervade the traditionality of various indigenous areas in an attempt to reveal that many of them show that they were more than simply migration areas of isolated autochthonous groups. It understands that many indigenous areas of the state are defined as authentic territories of traditional occupation by people whose presence was adulterated in various ways over the course of history. This is what happened to hunters, fishermen, and collectors who lived on the right bank of the Paraná river between the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th century, when agrarian economic exploration practically raided the western region of Brazil and left indelible marks wherever it was establsihed. Th e concepts of nation (Ofaié); identity (indigenous); territory/territorialization /deterritorialization (cattle fi elds), domination (enslaved), power (farmer), and culture (indigenous) are analyzed in this article on the basis of an experience made by Marchal Cândido Rondon with an Ofaié indigenous person, which helps us to understand how the process that culminated in the disappearance of this ethic group from the state and many of its older territories took place.Key words: indigenous territory, Ofaié, violence, Mato Grosso do Sul.