Singapore is not an island

In October 2021, Hoch Standard Pte Ltd signed a carbon trading deal, also known as the Nature Conservation Agreement (NCA), with the Sabah state government. The deal gives Hoch effective control of the carbon trading rights of 2m ha of Sabah’s protected forest areas for 100 years, with the possibility of extending it for an additional 100 years. These so-called REDD+ (Reducing emissions from deforestation and forest degradation in developing countries) projects have the potential to incentivise developing countries to conserve swathes of forest under threat—an ecological and financial boon. But the peculiarities of this NCA, signed under seemingly surreptitious circumstances and reeking of neocolonialism, soon attracted critics.

Environmentalists, human rights activists, and many others have criticised the deal for its lack of transparency, disregard for local communities, and secrecy surrounding Hoch Standard Pte Ltd’s leadership, records, and financial ties. This arrangement failed to consult with or inform local indigenous groups who depend on the forest, violating the right to free, prior, and informed consent as granted in the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. Critics have also pointed out other issues: the deal lasts 100 years, over three times as long as most REDD+ projects; the Sabah government (or a future Sabah government) cannot cancel the agreement; and Hoch can sell the rights covered in the NCA without the consent of the Sabah government.

In addition, REDD-Monitor reported that Hoch was registered in Singapore in 2019, has just two officers, and a paid-up capital of US$1,000 (S$1,370), raising questions about how a company with no verifiable track record in carbon or natural capital markets has the capability to now be in charge of monetising carbon and other natural capital from Sabah’s forests—issues so glaring that the State Attorney General has declared the NCA “legally impotent”. Given that Hoch Standard Pte Ltd is a Singaporean company, the NCA is co-governed by the laws of Singapore and Sabah.

This deal dramatically highlights one example of Singapore profiting off the potential harm to communities around South-east Asia. Despite Singapore’s size, our island-nation is a financial powerhouse that wields disproportionate influence and responsibility by supporting multinational corporations and reaping extensive benefits from the extraction of natural resources in the region. Notably, Singapore hosts the world’s largest oil refineries of fossil fuel giants ExxonMobil and Shell, serves as a key commercial hub in the palm oil supply chain, and is the world’s largest bunkering port, amongst other things.

While these industries are extremely lucrative, supplying essential products for modern economies, they also inflict heavy environmental costs. With our economic and technological success built on past and ongoing environmental degradation and exploitation of vulnerable communities in the region, Singapore has a significant responsibility to lead in climate action and adaptation measures for these same countries.

By contrast, we seem to live in a relative oasis: Singapore has a favourable geographical location and the ability to fund expensive adaptation endeavours, such as a S$5bn Coastal and Flood Protection Fund, part of a forecasted S$100bn needed to address climate change. These have, thus far, shielded us from the worst impacts of extreme weather events caused by climate change. This may partly explain why, according to a recent survey, only 43.7 percent of Singaporeans believe that climate change “is a serious and immediate threat to the well-being of the country”, and why climate advocacy is less prominent in Singapore than in other countries in the region.

This sense of security and invulnerability is an illusion. Singapore is especially vulnerable to sea level rise, prompting investment in expensive infrastructure, such as sea walls, to protect our reclaimed shoreline. Yet, reclamation is inherently problematic, often involving the outsourcing of environmental degradation through the sand we extract from neighbouring countries, contributing to the widespread devastation of coastal habitats and riverine communities.

Heatwaves, droughts, and floods care little about national boundaries; Singapore saw record temperatures in May. Not all of us can afford or access the air-conditioning that many crank up in response to higher temperatures, thus our marginalised communities—migrant workers, low-income communities, and outdoor workers—bear disproportionate economic burdens and health risks. Additionally, Singapore imports more than 90 percent of its food from 180 countries, many of which face the risk of climate disaster, threatening our food and water security. A stark example of this vulnerability emerged in 2022 with Malaysia’s brief moratorium on chicken exports, which accounts for 34 percent of Singapore’s total chicken supply. Another example lies in our water supply, with up to 60 percent of Singapore’s fresh water supply coming from Malaysia.

In sum, Singapore is not only also vulnerable to climate change, but heavily reliant on our neighbours for resource security and our energy transition, hence their climate vulnerabilities and concerns should be ours, as well. As Singapore grapples with the urgent need for large-scale climate action, we must recognise that our existing networks with neighbouring countries can serve as a foundation for fostering regional climate solidarity. Rather than perpetuating lifeboat ethics and the myth of a self-sufficient island, Singapore should embrace its role and responsibility in promoting collaborative efforts to address climate challenges in the region, lest our vulnerabilities and dependencies catch up to us.

Recognising this, SG Climate Rally (SGCR) advocates for greater protections for communities most vulnerable to the worst impacts of climate change, both within Singapore and across South-east Asia. Regional solidarity, including with SGCR’s partners such as Klima Action Malaysia (KAMY) and Youth Advocates for Climate Action Philippines (YACAP), is vital in this climate emergency. According to Aroe Ajoeni from KAMY, climate-related disasters are impacting Malaysian fishermen, farmers, and indigenous peoples, who rely directly on natural environments for their livelihoods. These disasters can also inflict non-economic losses, immeasurable by money, on language and other cultural elements. For example, for the indigenous Orang Asli in Pahang, the increasing unpredictability of weather, climate, and river patterns has led to a dissonance with their cultural traditions and belief systems, which are rooted in their long-standing relationship and understanding of the rivers and the river spirits.

Yet, local and indigenous communities are far from passive victims, and have more to teach us about climate change, resistance, and adaptation than we have to share. Confronted with the urgency of the climate crisis, marginalised communities have to develop their own adaptive strategies to cope with the rapidly changing natural environment, often without resources or support from governments. For instance, the Orang Asli group whom Ajoeni works with has adapted to the increase in floods by learning to recognise warning signs and developing strategies for preemptively evacuating to higher ground. “They have to do a lot of strategising and a lot of planning to adapt,” she said. “They build their own resilience.” Resilience-building is a challenging and complex social process requiring a high level of community-building, but in a region that is as climate-vulnerable as South-east Asia, it is crucial for survival.

It is these same communities that organise collective resistance against the unsustainable, unjust exploitation by extractive industries. According to Mitzi Jonelle Tan from YACAP, small farmers, fisherfolk, and indigenous peoples in the Philippines are organising and fighting for justice. For example, in Lupang Ramos, small farmers are fighting for agrarian land reform. Where the land has suffered from decades of monoculture, chemical fertilisers and other destructive agricultural practices, the farmers of Lupang Ramos have now self-organised to implement a community-based farming system that is healthier for the ecosystem. Rejecting destructive farming practices, they instead plant a variety of vegetables in a sustainable agricultural cycle, allowing the soil to be replenished with important nutrients. The farmers split the profits amongst themselves while maintaining collective emergency funds. “The groups which face the greatest oppression are also where you find the greatest resistance,” Tan shared. “They are often already organising for justice.”

These ground-up resistance groups have contributed to the development of the wider climate movement in the region. Climate justice groups such as YACAP and KAMY help to bridge the gaps between the various strands of environmentalism, consolidating them into a larger national and regional effort. YACAP is a coalition of smaller climate groups, including an art and literature group that enables individuals to express their care for the environment through the arts. Aside from smaller climate groups holding space for different forms of engagement with the masses, there is also a need to advocate for themselves on a national and international stage, enabling climate movements to hold accountable authorities at the highest level. Last year, KAMY attended the Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change—more commonly referred to as COP27— in Egypt, with two indigenous Orang Asli youth who put forward demands for an international roadmap towards a just energy transition. It was the first time that indigenous youth from peninsular Malaysia had attended COP and Ajoeni emphasised that it will not be the last.

Recently, the Malaysian government released a new national roadmap towards an energy transition. While this is a win for the climate movement, it is important to ask if this roadmap is just and fair to all. For instance, although the development of renewable energy such as solar power is a step in the right direction, it is crucial to understand whose land these solar farms will be built on, and how local land tenure and livelihoods may be displaced by these renewable projects, unless they are conducted in a just and responsible way. In the same vein, when Singapore’s Green Plan 2030 was released, SGCR conducted a detailed review and emphasised that a just transition should not place a disproportionate burden on Singapore’s most vulnerable groups, such as low-income workers.

The Philippines, for instance, was ranked the fifth most dangerous country in the world for climate activists, accounting for 11 out of the 16 lethal attacks on environmentalists in Asia, last year. Rural areas where land defenders oppose large-scale, state-backed reclamation and mining projects are heavily militarised. In Vietnam, the state has recently cracked down on the local climate movement, arresting leading environmentalists who have openly criticised the state’s energy policies, often on seemingly trumped-up charges of tax evasion. Most recently, Hoang Thi Minh Hong, a leading Vietnamese climate activist, was arrested shortly after being quoted in The Washington Post saying that such arrests had left environmental organisations in limbo, and the movement “on the verge of being entirely disabled.”

Amidst constant risk of arrest and violence, it is the collective power of the masses that keeps climate activists and environmental defenders safe. Just as the climate crisis and the political-economic forces that drive it transcend national borders, local activism is insufficient to safeguard climate action and justice. Ajoeni highlighted the need for coalition-building and people power, pointing out that Association for Southeast Asian Nation leaders have been collaborating with each other to support industries such as oil and gas. In South-east Asia, a complex web of shared challenges—including destructive developmentalism, the continual exclusion of local, marginalised voices (as with the NCA in Sabah), and a lack of basic rights and political freedoms—necessitates collective, regional resistance in climate and environmental work.

In moving towards climate justice, governments and corporations in the Global North responsible for the crisis have a responsibility to better support the communities most affected by climate change. As one of the world’s most competitive economies, and more than 20 years since Lee Kuan Yew announced our arrival into the “first world”, Singapore is clearly part of the Global North. We should have long shed the audacious “developing country” guise that our leaders continue to cling to in climate negotiations. For anyone who might perceive this as deft foreign policy positioning, the hypocrisy and reputational damage cannot be more egregious.

This means Singapore taking responsibility for our role in the region by contributing to a loss and damage fund—as is the developed world’s obligation to the developing world—rather than being evasive and reticent. As the number of people facing the life-threatening impacts of climate change grows, there will be an increase in disaster displacement. Calls for disaster relief and other forms of assistance from our neighbouring countries, alongside the increase in climate refugees, are inevitable. The earlier Singapore takes responsibility for leading regional climate solidarity, the more we can mitigate these impacts.

In “Snowpiercer”, Bong Joon-ho’s 2013 post-apocalyptic, eco-horror flick, the few humans who’ve survived a global climate disaster are shown riding on a self-sustaining train that circles the globe endlessly. The privileged ride in the front, feasting on fresh meat and veggies grown in climate-controlled carriages, while the destitute survive at the back, on an increasingly meagre sustenance of cockroach jelly. Only when “tail passengers” have something to offer the front—like violin skills—are they allowed past the armed guards between the carriages. After 17 years of this, they revolt. “All past revolutions have failed because they couldn’t take the engine,” Chris Evans, who plays their leader, declared.

Although our neighbours are not revolting against the Global North, the parallel is undeniable. The countries who have built their development and prosperity on the resources and labour of their more vulnerable neighbours continue to reallocate the blame onto others and close their eyes to the inequity they created, while our neighbours continue to bear the brunt of the effects. It would be naive to assume that Singaporeans can continue on this high-consumption journey—depleting regional resources, offering low-paid jobs to migrants, barricading our borders—without drawing resentment from those around. Our entanglements show that we are less insulated than perceived, and must urgently take bold measures towards regional climate action, lest we hurt only ourselves. To achieve true climate justice and demonstrate our capacity for solidarity and just action, Singapore must stand with and work alongside our neighbours and friends.

“We are taught that we are separate,” Tan reflected. “But we are all part of the same ecosystem.”

This essay was co-written by Shawn Ang, Beverly Devakishen, Debby Giam, CW Ko and M Yee.

The full interviews with SGCR’s regional partners, Aroe Ajoeni from KAMY and Mitzi Jonelle Tan from YACAP, can be found in podcast episodes here.

SG Climate Rally is a volunteer-run and ground-up climate advocacy group in Singapore born from the understanding that the planet faces a climate emergency, and that individual action alone is insufficient to tackle it. SGCR stands for climate justice, and believes that Singapore needs to take urgent action towards a just transition to support the communities most vulnerable to the impacts of climate change and to safeguard our collective future. SGCR 2023’s tagline, “Seas are rising, so are we,” references Singapore’s embeddedness within the archipelagic world, nusantara, where the connecting seas are the fabric of our existence, and is echoed in the call to action for regional climate solidarity.

Letters in response to this piece can be sent to sudhir@jom.media. All will be considered for publication on our “Letters to the editor” page.