WORDS AND IMAGES BY TAMARA BLAZQUEZ HAIK

EDITED BY CHRISTINE PICKERING

“Indigenous people protect 80% of global biodiversity” was a popular headline splashed across many mainstream media stories, like this one from National Geographic, just a few years ago. However, despite the veracity of this statement, nature and wildlife conservation practices continue to follow a very colonial path, leaving Indigenous communities out of the equation when it comes to conservation projects worldwide.

For many years, the scientific community benefitted from the vast Indigenous knowledge on medicinal herbs. They used this knowledge to create patents on countless medications, while Indigenous communities never received the revenues. Conservation science has also benefitted from this traditional knowledge on plants, animals and ecosystems to capture and pillage the species living in Indigenous communal forests. These species were taken to zoos and universities, and could sometimes even be found in the exotic and illegal wildlife trade, all in the name of “science” and “conservation”. Additionally, the creation of national parks often caused Indigenous communities to be exiled from the lands that have belonged to these ancient cultures for centuries in the service of conservation.

I have been a conservation photographer for the last ten years, and during that time I’ve worked on a variety of projects, from those run entirely by scientists, NGOs or zoos, to those which work alongside Indigenous communities. I can say with certainty that the most successful conservation endeavors I’ve witnessed are those that are community-based: projects in which scientists involve and work alongside local and Indigenous communities or projects led by Indigenous people. Their guardianship of the land, from what I’ve seen, provides the best results for land and water protection.

“Don Nicho,” one of Xochimilco’s Indigenous inhabitants, talking to journalists in the reproduction area of one of the axolotl community-based conservation projects in Xochimilco. May 2017.

Working on both these types of projects, I’ve learned a great deal about successful conservation efforts, and by no means is this piece intended to discredit the work of scientists striving to protect our natural environment. But it has to be said: a lot of what we know about plants, animals and ecosystems comes from the ancient knowledge Indigenous communities have amassed through the centuries. Many of these communities have already advanced the conservation of nature much further than the scientific community and as such, we need to indigenize our conservation efforts now more than ever.

An Oaxacan Arboreal Alligator Lizard, one of the rare reptile species that calls the forests of Santa Catarina Lachatao and Capulálpam de Méndez home. This species is listed as “Vulnerable” by the IUCN’s Red List of Endangered Species. Even though the community’s conservation work has kept the forests almost intact, it is highly sought after by illegal wildlife traffickers, and their populations are dwindling. October 2022.

To give an example, back in 2022, I visited the Indigenous communities of Capulálpam de Méndez and Santa Catarina Lachatao, which are located in Oaxaca’s Sierra Madre in southern Mexico. The guardianship of nature follows an ancient way of life and traditions referred to as “Usos y Costumbres,” resulting in the long-lasting protection of forests and wildlife within the communities’ territories. One way that the inhabitants of both these communities have thrived is through their tourism endeavours. They have implemented very low-impact ecotourism communal enterprises that benefit not only every single individual in the community, but also their forests.

The communal forest of Capulálpam de Méndez. November 2022.

During my stay in Capulálpam, as it is affectionately known in Oaxaca, I got to work alongside Leonel Bautista, the community’s most experienced nature guide, who accompanied me during an assignment to photograph the amphibians and reptiles in the area. Leonel explained to me, “Ever since the people of Capulálpam decided to take conservation matters in their own hands and expel the mining enterprises that had settled in the area, biodiversity around the community has thrived.”

Leonel Bautista, Capulálpam de Méndez’ expert nature guide, showing a caterpillar to tourists during a hike in the forest. November 2022.

Leonel also talked about the sustainable forestry that the people of Capulálpam have been practicing for many decades, based in their ancestors’ knowledge and their “Usos y Costumbres” as well, where, in his own words, he said, “We only cut down old and sick trees to prevent them spreading any diseases to the rest of the forest. Afterwards, we plant new trees and care for them for the next four or so years until they are big enough to survive on their own. We won't touch that area of the forest again for many years.”

A truck carrying wood from Capulálpam’s forest. Capulálpam practices very sustainable forestry techniques that have been passed down through generations in order to guarantee the communal forest’s survival and health. October 2022.

A similar way of life is seen in Santa Catarina Lachatao; yet, when I met with Juan Santiago, the community’s head nature guide and revered elder, he explained to me that they decided against engaging in any kind of forestry, even a sustainable practice like that of Capulálpam de Méndez. “It’s because the trees are our ‘abuelos’ — our ancestors — there’s no need to cut them down or intervene in any way in their life cycles. The forest knows how to take care of old and diseased trees, our only job is just to protect these forests from the predatory industries.” As such, the people of Santa Catarina Lachatao have focused mainly on ecotourism ventures, as well as their low-impact agriculture and farming practices, to sustain themselves.

The untouched communal forests surrounding Santa Catarina Lachatao in Oaxaca’s Sierra Madre. November 2022.

A similar situation can be observed in La Chinantla, another region in Oaxaca’s Sierra Madre and one of the most biodiverse places in Mexico, where the Indigenous Chinantecan communities have existed for centuries. They have traded harmful agricultural practices, like the growing of coffee, for a low-impact, communal ecotourism. Unlike Capulálpan and Santa Catarina Lachatao, some non-Indigenous NGOs have made their way into the region, allying themselves with industries like Grupo Modelo, a large brewery in Mexico known for its water pillaging and for trampling upon the rights of Indigenous peoples all across the country. This alliance with the NGOs has granted Grupo Modelo a concession over the water in La Chinantla, endangering not only some of the last remnants of pristine cloud forest, home to key species like the jaguar, but also the livelihoods and survival of the Chinantecan people.

The Oaxacan Cloud-Forest Treefrog, an endemic species to Oaxaca, which inhabits La Chinantla. It is sadly listed under “threatened” by the IUCN’s Red List of Endangered Species due to its limited distribution range and habitat loss. Grupo Modelo’s water concession in La Chinantla will endanger this species further. October 2022.

So what happens when scientific and environmental NGOs choose to ally themselves with industries and corporations, like Grupo Modelo or Coca-Cola, while leaving Indigenous people out of conservation endeavors?

The scientific community in Mexico City quickly learned the answer to this question. They came to understand why leaving Indigenous communities out of these efforts is a huge mistake when they attempted to reintroduce the axolotl (Ambystoma mexicanum), a type of salamander, to the wetlands of Xochimilco. These wetlands have been the home of the Xochimilcas people, who are the pueblos originarios (original settlers), ever since they arrived in the Basin of Mexico over a thousand years ago. They are known for building the “chinampas,” floating islands on the lake of Xochimilco used for growing crops, which allowed for both the Xochimilcas and the axolotl to thrive.

“Don Nicho,” one of Xochimilco’s Indigenous inhabitants, using the ancient chinampa building and repairing techniques to ready the canals for the axolotls. December 2021.

Many years, failures, and dead axolotls later, the scientists realized they didn’t really understand this ecosystem, and they needed the Xochimilcas’ help in order for the project to be successful.

The people of Xochimilco still preserve their ancestors’ “Usos y Costumbres” and way of life. It is common to see them rowing through the wetland’s canals on a daily basis to attend their chinampas and crops. Part of their conservation efforts are focused on preserving their traditional ways of life. January 2022.

Conservation science is still a relatively new and young field, and there are bound to be some mistakes along the way. But in order for it to achieve long-lasting results, the scientific community needs to ally themselves and collaborate with Indigenous people and communities. They must leave behind their colonizer mindset while acknowledging that Indigenous guardianship over nature has been around for longer and accomplished much more for the natural world.

Xochimilco has survived to this day despite the pollution, environmental degradation and urbanization threats it faces because of the land and water defense efforts carried out by its inhabitants, just as the forests in the Sierra Madre of Oaxaca have.

Urbanization continues to expand well into Xochimilco’s wetlands and canals. Wildlife has learned to adapt to and survive in this environment, while the people of Xochimilco seek to protect it from being completely devoured by real-estate development. December 2021.

As scientists, conservationists, environmentalists and nature storytellers, we need to acknowledge that conservation efforts, not only in Mexico but worldwide, should be indigenized: refocused on Indigenous guardianship, Indigenous inclusivity and equal collaboration with Indigenous communities.