Photos: World court set to hear Vanuatu's case on climate obligations
'We used to know every inch of that reef,' he said. 'It was like a friend.'
Now, it is unrecognisable.
After Cyclone Pam battered the reef in 2015, sediment from inland rivers smothered the coral beds. Crown-of-thorns starfish swept in and devoured the recovering polyps.
Back-to-back cyclones in 2023 crushed what remained. Then, in December 2024, a magnitude 7.3 earthquake shook the seabed.
What remains is a coral graveyard – bleached rubble scattered across the seabed, habitats collapsed, and life vanished.
'We have come out of the water in tears,' said Warmington, who has logged thousands of dives on this single reef. 'We just see heartbreak.' A sea turtle nibbles on what remains of the once vibrant reef at Havannah Harbour, off the coast of Efate Island, Vanuatu [Annika Hammerschlag/AP Photo]
That heartbreak is becoming more common across this Pacific island nation, where intensifying cyclones, rising seas, and saltwater intrusion are reshaping coastlines and threatening daily life.
Since 1993, sea levels around Vanuatu's shores have risen by about 6mm (0.24in) per year – significantly faster than the global average – and in some areas, tectonic activity has doubled that rate.
On Wednesday, Vanuatu will have its day in the world's highest court. The International Court of Justice (ICJ) will issue an advisory opinion on what legal obligations nations have to address climate change, and what consequences they may face if they do not.
The case, led by Vanuatu and backed by more than 130 countries, is seen as a potential turning point in international climate law.
The opinion will not be legally binding, but could help shape future efforts to hold major emitters accountable, and secure the funding and action small island nations need to adapt or survive.
It comes after decades of frustration for Pacific nations that have watched their homelands disappear.
In Tuvalu, where the average elevation is just two metres (6.6ft), more than a third of the population has applied for a climate migration visa to Australia.
By 2100, much of the country is projected to be under water at high tide.
In Nauru, the government has begun selling passports to wealthy foreigners – offering visa-free access to dozens of countries – in a bid to generate revenue for possible relocation efforts.
Vanuatu has already sought opinions from other international courts, and is pushing for the recognition of ecocide – the destruction of the environment – as a crime under the International Criminal Court.
Not all of these effects can be attributed solely to climate change, said Christina Shaw, chief executive of the Vanuatu Environmental Science Society.
Coastal development, tectonic subsidence, volcanic eruptions, deforestation, and pollution are also contributing to ecosystem decline. Children play on Pele Island [Annika Hammerschlag/AP Photo]
'Vanuatu's environment is quite fragile by its very nature in that it is young with narrow reefs, has small amounts of topsoil, and is impacted regularly by natural disasters,' she said. 'But we do have to think about the other human impacts on our environment as well.'
The damage is not limited to homes, gardens, and reefs – it is reaching into places once thought to be untouchable.
On the island of Pele, village chief Amos Kalsont sits at his brother's grave as waves lap against broken headstones half-buried in sand.
At high tide, both his brother's and father's graves sit just a few arm's lengths from the sea. Some homes and gardens have already been moved inland, and saltwater intrusion has tainted the community's primary drinking water source.
Now, the community is considering relocating the entire village – but that would mean leaving the land their grandparents cleared by hand.
Many in Vanuatu remain committed to building something stronger and hope the rest of the world will support them.
Back in Havannah Harbour, John Warmington still dives the reef he considers part of his family. While much of it has gone, he and his wife Sandy have begun replanting coral fragments in the hope of restoring what remains.
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Al Jazeera
5 days ago
- Al Jazeera
Photos: World court set to hear Vanuatu's case on climate obligations
When John Warmington first began diving the reefs outside his home in Vanuatu's Havannah Harbour 10 years ago, the coral rose like a sunken forest – tall stands of staghorns branched into yellow antlers, plate corals layered like canopies, and clouds of darting fish wove through the labyrinth. 'We used to know every inch of that reef,' he said. 'It was like a friend.' Now, it is unrecognisable. After Cyclone Pam battered the reef in 2015, sediment from inland rivers smothered the coral beds. Crown-of-thorns starfish swept in and devoured the recovering polyps. Back-to-back cyclones in 2023 crushed what remained. Then, in December 2024, a magnitude 7.3 earthquake shook the seabed. What remains is a coral graveyard – bleached rubble scattered across the seabed, habitats collapsed, and life vanished. 'We have come out of the water in tears,' said Warmington, who has logged thousands of dives on this single reef. 'We just see heartbreak.' A sea turtle nibbles on what remains of the once vibrant reef at Havannah Harbour, off the coast of Efate Island, Vanuatu [Annika Hammerschlag/AP Photo] That heartbreak is becoming more common across this Pacific island nation, where intensifying cyclones, rising seas, and saltwater intrusion are reshaping coastlines and threatening daily life. Since 1993, sea levels around Vanuatu's shores have risen by about 6mm (0.24in) per year – significantly faster than the global average – and in some areas, tectonic activity has doubled that rate. On Wednesday, Vanuatu will have its day in the world's highest court. The International Court of Justice (ICJ) will issue an advisory opinion on what legal obligations nations have to address climate change, and what consequences they may face if they do not. The case, led by Vanuatu and backed by more than 130 countries, is seen as a potential turning point in international climate law. The opinion will not be legally binding, but could help shape future efforts to hold major emitters accountable, and secure the funding and action small island nations need to adapt or survive. It comes after decades of frustration for Pacific nations that have watched their homelands disappear. In Tuvalu, where the average elevation is just two metres (6.6ft), more than a third of the population has applied for a climate migration visa to Australia. By 2100, much of the country is projected to be under water at high tide. In Nauru, the government has begun selling passports to wealthy foreigners – offering visa-free access to dozens of countries – in a bid to generate revenue for possible relocation efforts. Vanuatu has already sought opinions from other international courts, and is pushing for the recognition of ecocide – the destruction of the environment – as a crime under the International Criminal Court. Not all of these effects can be attributed solely to climate change, said Christina Shaw, chief executive of the Vanuatu Environmental Science Society. Coastal development, tectonic subsidence, volcanic eruptions, deforestation, and pollution are also contributing to ecosystem decline. Children play on Pele Island [Annika Hammerschlag/AP Photo] 'Vanuatu's environment is quite fragile by its very nature in that it is young with narrow reefs, has small amounts of topsoil, and is impacted regularly by natural disasters,' she said. 'But we do have to think about the other human impacts on our environment as well.' The damage is not limited to homes, gardens, and reefs – it is reaching into places once thought to be untouchable. On the island of Pele, village chief Amos Kalsont sits at his brother's grave as waves lap against broken headstones half-buried in sand. At high tide, both his brother's and father's graves sit just a few arm's lengths from the sea. Some homes and gardens have already been moved inland, and saltwater intrusion has tainted the community's primary drinking water source. Now, the community is considering relocating the entire village – but that would mean leaving the land their grandparents cleared by hand. Many in Vanuatu remain committed to building something stronger and hope the rest of the world will support them. Back in Havannah Harbour, John Warmington still dives the reef he considers part of his family. While much of it has gone, he and his wife Sandy have begun replanting coral fragments in the hope of restoring what remains.
Al Jazeera
09-07-2025
- Al Jazeera
Wildfires reopen earthquake wounds in Turkiye's shattered Hatay province
Antakya, Turkiye – The darkening sky and thick, acrid smoke carried by scorching winds filled residents of Turkiye's Hatay province with dread. 'It was like waking up, but you're back in a nightmare,' said Hatice Nur Yilmaz, 23, her voice trembling on the phone as she described seeing flames from her container home in Antakya, Hatay's largest city. Yilmaz studies at Osmangazi University, in northwest Turkiye's Eskisehir, almost 400 miles (643 kilometres) away from Antakya. But she was back in her family's temporary home – Antakya is still rebuilding following the earthquake – when the fires broke out in Hatay. And, despite the home being untouched this time, it brought back some of the scars of the past. 'We looked at the sky … confused at first. Smoke billowed from the mountains. The wind picked up and the flames kept rising,' Yilmaz recounted, describing 'the same panic, the same suffocating fear'. Turkiye has been battling wildfires since the end of June, but a particularly bad outbreak at the start of July has killed at least three people and displaced more than 50,000 others. Hatay, in southeastern Turkiye, has been particularly badly hit, stirring painful memories for survivors of the earthquake that devastated this region two and a half years ago. On February 6, 2023, Yilmaz had been fast asleep in her family's now-destroyed home when the magnitude 7.8 earthquake struck near dawn. The quake and powerful subsequent tremors killed more than 53,000 people in Turkiye and destroyed or damaged hundreds of thousands of buildings across the country's south and southeast, including the family's home. About 6,000 people are also believed to have died in neighbouring northern Syria. More than two years after the quakes, Yilmaz's family is among nearly half a million people still displaced, according to the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies. 'As soon as I saw the news [of the fires], I called my uncle's wife because their house was very close to the fires,' Yilmaz said. 'She was weeping. She said, 'We're gathering what we can, they're telling us to flee.'' Yilmaz's uncle had moved to Gulderen, on the outskirts of Antakya, to get away from the city centre of Antakya, where reconstruction work is continuing. The fires consumed fragile threads of normalcy that survivors had painstakingly rebuilt. 'Gardens with fruit trees, vegetables, all burned … but thankfully not their houses'. 'A neighbour's haystack was gone. Animals trapped, perished,' Yilmaz relayed from her call with her relatives. Chaotic self-reliance The wildfires are believed to have been caused by a combination of factors – including human activity and suspected arson – coupled with high summer temperatures in the mid-30 degrees Celsius (95 degrees Fahrenheit) and dry conditions. As flames first engulfed the hillsides, residents reported taking immediate action with improvised methods. Neighbours formed bucket brigades using well water and garden hoses, while others scrambled for generators to power pumps due to electricity cuts. For Ethem Askar, 42, a steel contractor from Antakya's neighbourhood of Serinyol who was involved in volunteer initiatives during both catastrophes, the parallels in disaster response are inescapable. 'Just as it was late in the earthquake, it was the same in the fire,' he stated bluntly, adding that during one of the fires, it took hours for the emergency services to send enough helicopters to put out the blaze. 'If there had been a proper first intervention, this scale of devastation wouldn't have happened,' Askar said. To compensate, Askar and other residents attempted to help out. 'Our group, about 45 volunteers – the same ones who did debris removal, food distribution, teaching children after the quake – we mobilised again,' Askar said. 'The initial response is minimal, then, when it's almost too late, more resources arrive. By the next day, the fire was massive.' He described frantic evacuations, a grim replay of digging through rubble. Firefighters were able to evacuate residents and their animals from highland villages and relocate people to student dormitories and animals to other stables, but the villages sustained significant damage. But Ilyas Yildirim, the chief of Hatay Metropolitan Municipality's fire department, denied any delay in the firefighters' response. 'There was no delayed response to the fire. Our initial response teams were already positioned in Hatay and intervened immediately,' Yildirim said. 'While additional units deployed to address simultaneous outbreaks at four locations, this operation differs fundamentally from earthquake response protocols,' he added. 'No operational delays occurred during the latest fire incidents.' Echoes of an earthquake Like Askar, Yilmaz has also felt as if her family and neighbours have had to rely on themselves to deal with the wildfires – a sentiment similar to that felt during the earthquake. 'There was no electricity … My two uncles … tried with their neighbours to beat back the flames with buckets and hoses, utterly alone,' she said. News of fires breaking out elsewhere in Dortyol being partially extinguished, then flaring again, has become unbearable for Yilmaz. Fires started in Antakya on June 30 and reached Dortyol by July 4. 'It's overwhelming now, staying here. Returning to this city … it feels shrouded in perpetual dust, a city of ghosts,' Yilmaz said. Hatay Governor Mustafa Masatlı said on Monday that 920 households and 1,870 citizens had been evacuated from nine plateaux. Damage assessments continue. While the fires in Antakya and Dortyol have largely been contained, flare-ups continue in other areas, according to department chief Yıldırım. New outbreaks have been reported in places like Samandag and Serinyol, just southwest and northeast of Hatay, respectively. These flare-ups are keeping the firefighters and rescuers on their toes and draining their energy. Across the Dortyol and Antakya regions of Hatay, about 6,500 people were evacuated as a precautionary measure, Hatay Fire Department's Sergeant Deniz Nur said. 'The psychological toll of continuous instability is immense,' Askar, the volunteer, explained. 'People wake up every single day with the fear that something else will happen,' he said. 'Even if they get new housing – and many are still in containers, like my parents were for months – the underlying anxiety doesn't vanish. 'How can you feel normal? I knew a nurse who lived in her car for three and a half months after the quake. Building roads and apartments doesn't erase these experiences. The trauma is embedded,' he said. 'All of us need serious psychological help even after two years,' Askar added. 'I haven't even started processing it myself. There is no time to cry, to grieve properly … We postponed it. We just keep doing what we can.' Life amid the rubble Once known for its rich multicultural heritage blending Turkish, Arab and Christian influences, evident in its architecture, cuisine and festivals, vast swaths of Hatay, known historically as Antioch, remain defined by mountains of rubble. Yilmaz, the student, recalled better times in her large two-storey former family home, when summers meant meeting childhood friends home from university in cafes along bustling Kurtulus Street, now in ruins. Her parents now live in a 21-square-metre (226-square-foot) container comprising one room and a combined kitchen-living area that they keep tidy, folding clothes into storage boxes to make the most of space. In the summers and during holidays, when she and her three siblings return to Antakya from their universities, the whole family spreads mats out on the floor to sleep. 'The biggest problem is the lack of private space,' she explained. 'I used to have my own room that overlooked the mountains … and we would have lots of guests.' Now, gatherings still happen, but people sit on plastic chairs set up outside the containers, playing cards. 'I long to go out, to travel, to simply breathe as a human being. But the old places I knew are gone, demolished,' Yilmaz said. 'Are there new ones? Where? And even if I knew where, how could I get there? Transportation is just one barrier. These problems are piling up, becoming unbearably heavy,' she added. Yet, amid compounded devastation, an unbreakable bond with Hatay persists. Askar moved to a new house only six months ago after living for nearly two years in a container with his wife, 10-year-old son and his parents. 'All my memories, my life, my childhood, my friends, they are here,' he said. 'People from Hatay cannot live or breathe properly anywhere else. After the quake, I took my father away for three months,' Askar added. 'When he returned, he vowed never to leave again, even if he had to live in a container forever. This land is in our blood.' This piece was published in collaboration with Egab.
Al Jazeera
04-06-2025
- Al Jazeera
Fight for the Pacific – Episode 3: China's Pacific Wave
In 'China's Pacific Wave', the episode delves into the economic tug-of-war between the United States and China in the Pacific, seen through the experiences of locals like Jacob George, a Vanuatuan customary land owner confronting Chinese encroachment, and Maikolo Ikahihfo, a Tongan stall owner amid the rise of Chinese businesses. Highlighting the Pacific nations' growing debts to China, this episode examines the vulnerabilities and economic sovereignty concerns of these aid-reliant island nations, which received more than $40bn in development assistance from 2008 to 2021. Ronna Lee's story in Samoa adds a personal dimension, exploring cultural links between the Pacific and China. This episode underscores the challenges faced by Pacific nations, such as dependency on limited income sources and climate change threats, and questions their role in the larger geopolitical game: are they merely pawns, or active agents in their destiny amidst intense global power dynamics? Fight for the Pacific, a four-part series, showcases the Pacific's critical transformation into a battleground of global power. This series captures the high-stakes rivalry between the US and China as they vie for dominance in a region pivotal to global stability. The series frames the Pacific not just as a battleground for superpowers but also as a region with its own unique challenges and aspirations.
